


Circus Candy

by MetalandMagic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Canon diversion after episode 6, Drug Use, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Child Slavery, Protective!Han, Trapeze, circus AU, ringmaster!hux, smut at the end, some violence, trapeze artist!ben
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-05-31
Packaged: 2018-07-11 08:24:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 22,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7040665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MetalandMagic/pseuds/MetalandMagic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At 8 years old, Ben Organa-Solo was taken to Snoke’s Circus on Coruscant. It is one of the very few memories he has of his parents being happy together. All through his Jedi training, instead of a lightsaber, Ben dreams of a trapeze to swing from and the roar of a crowd, but no circus ever came to Tattooine or D'Qar. 10 years later, Ben gains the nerve to leave the tutelage of his Uncle Luke, to carve his destiny in the same circus that brought his family together in hopes of finding that happiness again. But the circus has a new Ring Master that sets his gaze onto Ben not really understanding why or how Ben makes him feel alive again, all the while trying to keep his circus afloat. Snoke’s Circus is not all what it seems anymore. Because money, life-debts, lies and an underhanded benefactor that will do anything to make money, nearly destroys the little happiness that is left in Ben.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Circus Candy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the KyluxBigBang on tumblr  
> Art done by Sleepran from tumblr @ http://sleepran.tumblr.com/  
> ~~~  
> **Circus Candy — Very cheap confections with deceptively impressive packaging. Often sold in a special intermission pitch, with prize premiums as an incentive to buy.**  
> ~~~

 

 

Circus Candy  
By MetalandMagic  
~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~*~~~~~

The lights are so hot on his face. The blazing heat above him flooded his aerial stage. The music swelled under the overly large tent; a crescendo of drums, flutes, and trumpets spurred the performer on to push himself harder, leap higher—to be more daring with his stunts. The roar of the crowd was delightfully deafening in his ears, the rumble of the atmosphere, the music, the people—felt like a heavy stone in his stomach for which he could not be happier to carry, yet he was lighter than the air he was zipping through. A thin sheen of sweat was forming on his brow, trailing down his neck, soaking into his black, skin-tight costume. His charcoal coloured hair has been tied back with a leather thong, the tails whipping against his neck when he takes a new leap to the next platform from his swing. He landed gracefully on the platform, his black hair loosening, a bit as strands made their escape from the leather thong, sticking to his face. He lifted his arms to revel in the reactions of the crowd, soaking in every smile and shriek and whoop he could extract from his audience. The heave and ho of his chest was deep and exhausting, but he never felt more alive.

Out in the near distance, swinging from the ropes like a lithe feline, the young man could see a blur barreling towards him. A lone air dancer came closer and closer, their face is shielded by a miasma of darkness, leaving them anonymous to the black haired dancer. Suddenly the feline-like sky performer stopped their movements to solely swing to and fro. Using their momentum, the anonymous air dancer thrust their weight forwards to arch themselves upside down from the swing, their legs hooking on the bar to secure their position. They gestured towards the dark haired dancer, urging him to leap from his platform—a platform that is hundreds of feet from the ground—to join the lithe dancer on his swing. The raven haired trapeze artist took one last look at the coquettish stranger, as they continued to swing towards him, then away again to maintain his large swing. The swelling of enticement was too much to bear… the charcoal haired performer took a step forward to time his leap in tune with his stranger’s harrowing swing, then he leapt.

Hands and arms stretched out.

  
The goal; catch his stranger’s hands or meet the ground in the worst way possible.  
The lights grew brighter.  
Time slowed to an unbearable pace.  
The roar of the crowd became fuzzy and hurt his ears.  
The air felt thick and pasty.  
The miasma covered face of his stranger came nearer and nearer.  
Their hands barely a brush away from each other—

_‘Ben.’_  
.  
.  
.

 

Ben Organa-Solo was jolted out of his nap. He was slouched uncomfortably against a large metal box in the cargo hold, filled with other passengers, many that could be categorized under ‘shifty’. Ben stuck to his corner in the cargo hold of the rickety freighter, his black cloak shielding his face from the other occupants. He shifted his sitting position, the pack he brought with him, slung over one shoulder as a makeshift pillow was stuffed with two pairs of pants, shirts, one other cloak, under things and his saber. Why did I bring that? He thought. I don’t know. He answered.

 

He lost track of when they left Tattooine, several hours at least. He wondered if his Uncle has even noticed he was gone—of course he must have, he is a fully fledged Jedi. He must have felt a disturbance within the Force—Ben’s unease and guilt of his planned departing. While Ben had a tremendous talent within the Force, he was always unhappy throughout his Jedi training. Luke Skywalker most definitely felt that. Now Ben is on a dusty freighter, with an array of aliens—some large and grunting, some small and chittering, but all keeping to themselves. Ben wonders why they are heading to Coruscant. Were they running away from their families as well? Seeking a different path than the one they have been dealt on Tattooine? Ben could only speculate. Lowering his head back into his knees, the hood of his cloak covering his face like an oversized tent, the raven haired young man tried desperately to forget his parents, his Uncle—and focus on what he will do once they landed on Coruscant.

Maybe he will have that dream again.

 

.  
.  
.

 

The room was dark and hazy. Smokey tendrils circled the air in lazy spirals, the grey hot mist curling around the body of the room’s sole occupant. Puffs of the narcotic incense brought a mild euphoric sensation to the red-headed circus Ringmaster. Leaning back into his chair, the two front legs of the seat lifted off the ground as he swung his own long legs onto his desk strewn with many papers and a data pad already low on charge with all the use it receives during the day. The Ringmaster took another drag through his nose to still his nerves, inhaling the addictive substance. He knew he should quit this disgusting habit, he knew that after long-term use he could enter an early grave, yet at this point he would gladly allow his body to be tossed into a hole in the ground, eagerly inviting the dirt to cover his face until he could see the sun no more.

 

Another night of performances, another night with low attendance, another night of being reprimanded from Snoke through a holo-call. Sales have plummeted in a way that would make a Wookie’s hair curl and force a star to collapse in on itself. More than 20 years ago, Snoke’s Cirque was a place that all of Coruscant would flock too. Kings and Queens with their Princes and Princesses, Senators, war heroes, and the upper crust of Coruscant all filled the seats on a nightly basis, as well as those who were less affluent and rich. Everyone was welcomed.

 

The Ringmaster closed his eyes. He was there for those days; he was there for the epiphany of his Father’s hard work. He tasted the fruits of the Brendol Hux’s labour, and they were sweet and it was plentiful. Sitting back into his chair, the Ringmaster could hear the echoes of the past, the cheer of the crowd. He felt the hot lighting above him, he tasted the cool beverage from the concessions, and he saw his Father’s face. The corners of his eyes crinkling when he smiled as he placed a hand on his son’s head, telling him one day this Cirque would be put into his capable hands. The lights were bright, but not blinding, the music was loud and flooded the atmosphere, and soothing…

 

He felt the cool brisk wind whip past him as he flew the air.

Then it faded when a knock on the door resounded through his office.

Clearing his throat, the Ringmaster called out thickly, “Yes?”

  
“It’s Phasma, Sir.” Phasma, his beautiful sharp shooter, but her skills with a trick whip just as good.  
“Come in, Phasma…”

  
A tall blonde woman with a lithe-athletic figure entered the office, she pushed back a strand of short hair behind her ear as she took a sniff of the air in the office. She made a face.

  
“…Hux,” she took a stride into the room, but not before turning the lights up to 80%. She took notice that the man she called Hux was sulking and wanted to be alone in the dark, but she would not have it. They have known each other long enough to understand that Hux being alone only led to the red-haired Ringmaster falling deeper into a depression. Phasma sat down in the chair in front of Hux’s desk. She folded her arms on the desk and leaned forward, she gave a quirk of a smile, “Hux, are you alright?”

“That depends, Phasma—do I look alright?” Hux was known to snap at Phasma, but she never let it bother her most of the time. At least he spoke to her. He was different from his father all the while looking just like him with his fiery red hair combed against his scalp, white clear skin and long gloved fingers. Phasma was only a child when Brendol Hux was the Ringmaster, she was around as a performer in training when the epiphany of Snoke’s Cirque was in full throes. She knew HOW this cirque was supposed to look and what it was once capable of, but the man in front of her was not the boy she grew up with. He was never the same after Brendol’s death.

“So no,” Phasma stated, “…tonight wasn’t so horrible. My routine went great, the music only skipped twice, and we sold out of drinks...”

  
“No, we ran out of stock because the vendor never delivered on time so at least half of the crowd received nothing to drink. I am assuming because the vendor never received the payment…” Hux continued to stare at the ceiling as his voice trailed off, never removing his boots from the desk.

_‘Even while spiraling into an endless well of financial debt, and collapsing family business, Hux always manages to have polished boots and a neatly pressed costume.’_ She thought to herself almost bitterly. 

Hux wore his typical Ringmaster attire nightly, even though he had not set foot in the limelight of his cirque in years. Crisp black trousers, tucked into knee high black boots, laced up to the very top tightly. His white, long-sleeved dress shirt buttoned to his collar bone—is neatly tucked into his trousers, never wrinkling even as he sat. Over his white shirt, a golden vest-slightly larger than his white shirt—was not tucked into his trousers. A relic of a pocket watch connected to a brass chain sat over his left breast pocket. Lastly a red ringmaster’s coat brought the whole look together. The coat had long coattails that trailed behind him majestically has he walked. The lapels of said coat had an intricately designed filigree, sewed with gold thread, in the initials **B.H.**

_**Brendol Hux** _

  
Hux’s father used to wear the top hats of ringmasters old, but Hux set that aside as an untouched memento of his father. Even though the coat once belonged to his father, he felt unworthy to wear his hat.

 

“Are you done zoning out or has that incense finally killed enough of your brain cells inhibiting your ability to respond?”

Phasma folded her arms, sitting up straight. She can see Hux’s reluctance to continue their little meeting. Or was it his reluctance to continue anything at all? She knew Hux worshipped his Father and wanted to continue the circus just as Brendol once had done—but the pitfalls of time had broken his will—the circus, the remaining performers, Brendol’s legacy, they are suffering from it, Phasma let out a sigh and she stood and walked towards the door.

“Well, just thought I would remind you about tomorrow. We have several performers still willing to try out for this circus. Maybe we will find someone who can stoke a fire into this place again.”

“I thought about setting this place on fire once, wouldn’t be worth it though, we do not have any insurance to break even,” Hux closed his eyes and gestured Phasma to turn the lights back down as she left his office. Once she was far enough away from the door, the blonde sharp-shooter let out a choking sob that became too tight to hold in her chest any longer.

Hux heard it through the door.

.  
.  
.

Ben ran and ran until his lungs burned for rest, and still he ran. Try outs for Snoke’s were nearly over. He cursed that damn hunk of junk freighter that decided it would be fun to make its arrival two and a half hours late. It would have been faster to take an air taxi directly to his destination, but being low of funds, he took it as far as he possibly could before he hadn’t a dime to his name. Nearly there, Ben ran and leapt across the sidewalks of the lower areas that connected the imposing skyscrapers. Other pedestrians of the entertainment district blocked his path, and would get hit by his large pack and swinging arms as he ran. Ben gave short waves to the people he ran into as a quick, yet not so meaningful apologies.

  
Turning a corner, Ben knew he was close. He saw signs for today’s tryouts on the hover posts of the pedestrian sidewalks, guiding him to Snoke’s Circus. It was getting darker as the bright lights of advertisements and the many bars and restaurants nearly blinded him. The noise and chatter of Coruscant was deafening and confusing. The Coruscanti walked and hustled to and fro. The cackling and yelling of the populace looking for a fun night out polluted the artificially clean air. Every sound and every smell impaled Ben’s senses—and he smiled. It was so different from the quiet nights on Tattooine, D’Qar was no better.

_So close._

He saw the lights of the oversized tent outlining the silhouette of Snoke’s Circus. Ben took note that the lights seemed dimmer than he remembered as a child, but it did not bother him. All that mattered was getting there before it was too late. Ben rounded the tent in search of an entrance, he saw a flap opened twenty feet ahead of him—he sped up, only to trip over an uneven crack in the sidewalk.

.  
.  
.

 

Finally, the auditions were over, and Phasma knew not a single one of the half dozen Coruscanti caught Hux’s eye. Not that Hux could be too picky considering the pathetic situation they were in currently. They were in need of someone with acrobatic skills, some who had a fire to bring a fresh batch of paying customers, someone to bring in the money to pay of the loans Hux had to take out. Money he had to borrow from Snoke himself, and unfortunately…some loans from the Hutts….

  
Sitting in the audience seats, Hux was leaning his cheek on his right hand looking bored as he sized up the group of hopeful performers.

_‘The blonde juggler was not too awful…but his technique needs work. The bearded one bored me to death, ‘comedian’ my backside…. I am not even going to bother with that trampoline woman...’_

Letting out a breath from deep in her stomach, Phasma watched Hux’s expressions. He was talking to himself, she could tell he was sizing them up, critically critiquing their performances. Not liking a single one. Phasma admitted to herself that this particular group of performers were poorly trained—the bottom of the barrel if you will. But Snoke’s Circus was in need of fresh blood, but no properly trained performer with excellent abilities would waste their time with Snoke’s. At least not anymore. There was once a time when Snoke’s Circus had a waiting list for performers to audition and perhaps be awarded a spot in the lineup. But that was a long ago before the death of Hux’s father, and before Hux lost his spark.

“You may all leave. Should I have an inkling of interest in you I shall have Phasma contact you within the week.”

Hux stood from his seat. He took notice that this batch of hopeful performers looked disheartened from his unamused appearance. They began to file out before a very loud blur barreled in, a large green pack filled with personal items rolling across the floor. The dark blur knocked over the juggler and the trampoline woman. Phasma bit her lip and looked to Hux, her neck nearly breaking at how swiftly she turned to look at her boss and friend. Hux’s brow furrowed.  
The dark blur was no longer a blur, but a dark haired boy—a young man, sat in a heap on the floor.

The juggler man and trampoline woman rubbed their shoulders and they stood once again. The juggler man cursed in some language not familiar to the dark haired young man, considering he looked confused and embarrassed on the floor. The trampoline woman did not look as angry, but more annoyed at how her costume ripped at a seam as she stood. The rest of the group of performers stared at the pathetic black haired man. The bearded comedian who was not funny began to laugh and he clapped a hand on the juggler’s back.

“Ya’ ‘right there, son?!”

The juggler sneered and trampled out of the area, leaving a red faced Ben…still on the floor.

 

**“Well?!”**

  
Ben looked up to the red haired man who had raised his voice at him. A blonde woman stood next to him, gesturing to him with her eyes to stand up. He took the silent advice and quickly, albeit awkwardly stood up. Hux took notice that this person was very tall, muscular and young. His features were strong—his jaw, nose, and cheekbones jutted in the right places to create a handsome face. His hair was black, curling at the tips slightly, and reached the bottom of his ears. The blacked haired individual squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth only to be interrupted by the angry ginger haired ringmaster.

“Is there a reason why you decided to stampede in here like an inebriated tauntaun...? Were you planning on looking like a fool or does it just come naturally…?”

Ben took in the appearance of the lithe red head. He was tall, not as tall as him but nearly identical in height. His hair was combed neatly, only one lock fell onto his forehead. He was wearing a cream colored button up shirt. It was tucked into a pair of dark brown trousers that in turn were being held up by black suspenders. His boots were black and polished. His skin was like porcelain, but freckles peppered the bridge of his nose, some ran down his neck and onto the tips of his ears. His lips were tight in a sneer and a brow was raised in annoyance. And it was directed at him.

“I’m here for the audition!”

  
“No need to yell at me, fool. It does not matter anyway; you are too late. The auditions are over. Go home.” Ben’s heart began to race as his temper was slowly rising out of the pit of his stomach, and into his chest cavity, he clenched his fists as he stared up at the redheaded man.

“Please! I came all the way from Tattooine. I was shoved into a cramped freighter and haven’t slept just so I could get here in time!”

The ringmaster gave a single haughty laugh, “well then, you did a horrible job. Because you did not get here in time, idiot. I have already wasted enough time today, so I bid you good day.” Luckily the rest of the Coruscanti who had auditioned earlier were gone from the room to not hear Hux insult their auditions.

Ben looked to the blonde woman with large eyes, practically begging her to help him. Phasma’s voice was trapped in her throat as she watched Hux begin to walk away from the pathetic boy.

“Give him a chance. What could you possibly lose by allowing him to show you what he can do? He came from Tattooine. And are we not desperate for performers? For some new blood?”

“FIVE MINUTES!” Ben cried out of turn, “five minutes, is all I ask from you. I guarantee that I will impress you!”

 

Hands behind his back, Hux stepped down the short stairs of the row of chairs to make his way to the disheveled, raven-haired man. Leaping onto the raised stage, Hux stood before him, drawing closer than he probably should. Phasma took notice of the small smirk that tugged at the corner of Hux’s mouth. Hux raised his right hand to cradle the chin of this bull-headed person. Between his thumb and forefinger, he roughly examined Ben’s face. Back and forth, Hux turned Ben’s face as if sizing up a prized mare.

“How far are you willing to go to impress me?”

  
Ben was taken back. Why was this stranger touching his face? Why was he _still_ touching his face?! This man’s fingers felt hot through his brown leather gloves.

“What do you mean?” The ginger haired man finally released Ben’s chin. It burned where his fingers once were on his skin. The ringmaster began to circle Ben slowly, taking in the young man’s build and height as he circled like an orange vulture.

“I mean…how badly do you want to be a part of my troupe? Will you be willing to do the most dirties jobs? To do as I tell you to when I tell you too? Are you willing to shed blood?”

“HUX!”

  
“Phasma?” Hux chuckled again.

The blonde woman named Phasma was red-faced, her jaw clenched. She also made her way to the two men, “Is this your way of scaring off this kid? It looks more like you are trying to eat him.”

His name is Hux.

“I do not deal in absolutes. And yet you say you can _guarantee_ to impress me…”  
“Yes. I know I can, Sir.”

  
Hux made a humph sound in his throat and he turned to walk towards Phasma, “So you do have manners. Very well, I will give you an opportunity to impress me. Tonight. Phasma! Take erm—”

  
“Ben. Just, Ben.”

  
“Hehe, take Just Ben to the dressing room. Find him something suitable for tonight. And put him down for a nap perhaps.”

Ben seethed at Hux’s arrogance, but he was giving him a chance. This was his shot and he wasn’t going to throw it away because Snoke’s Circus ringmaster is a total asshole, “What is it you are expecting? What do you want me to do?”  
Hux turned on his heels, he slowly looked Ben up and down one last time, before taking another stride towards the confused young man, “Impress me.”

.  
.  
.

 

Ben could hear the light murmuring of the crowd behind the thick curtain. Once before he pushed the curtain to the side to look into the crowd. The audience was on the smaller side, smaller than what he remembered as a child, but still intimidating. Ben saw a row of three empty seats towards the front.

In his mind’s eye, he could see tiny Ben, no more than eight years old, sitting in between his parents. The small Ben Organa-Solo looked up to his Mother’s face. She was smiling as she held his hand. A beautiful woman on the stage was contorting her flexible body into insane positions to exciting music. Leia would point, gaining Ben’s attention to look at the woman. To his left, was Han Solo, his father. He held his other hand. While his Mother had an open mouth smile, and would let out loud laughs—his Father had his signature quirk of a smile. He would lightly squeeze Ben’s hand. Han’s larger, calloused hand was warm and comforting. These moments were few and far in between. Both his parents, together, with him—happy and laughing. With his Mother’s demanding job as a leader and commander of Peace and his Father gallivanting across the galaxy with his Uncle Chewie on the Falcon—it left little time for the small family to be together.

Ben also remembered that no longer than a month later, he would begin his Jedi training as his Uncle Luke’s padawan. He would be shipped off to Tattooine, where his Uncle lived. His Mother would be on a base on D’Qar, and he had no idea where Han would be. He had to enjoy this moment.

Looking up, small Ben watched a young boy with light hair and pale skin—no older than 13 or 14 years old—was soaring through the air on the trapeze. The young boy leapt from bar to bar, tumbling, and performing layouts as if gravity meant nothing to him. Ben smiled, his eyes grew larger, and he squeezed tighter onto his parent’s respective hands.

Back in the present, older Ben was back at Snoke’s Circus as a performer, at least—he was almost a part of Hux’s troupe. He needed to do well, to show Hux and the audience that he was worthy of being here. Years of running through the sands of Tattooine shaped his legs to be strong and muscled, and swinging on the branches of the tall trees of D’Qar, shaped his arms to be powerful enough to pull his own weight up as he was dangling hundreds of feet from the ground. His Jedi training included the fundamentals of strength training and breathing exercises. They helped him to perfect his balance and control his movements to better wield his saber and to protect himself in combat.

And standing on a very tall stump under the suns of Tattooine does wonders for your balance too. Ben chuckled at the memory of his Uncle leaping onto his back once, saying that all padawans carried their Jedi masters like this.

“Are you ready, Just Ben?”  
“How long are you going to hold on to that?”

 

Hux squared his shoulders as he smirked at Ben. Hux drank in Ben’s form fitting outfit. It was black and red which seemed to suit Ben’s darker features. The black body suit clung to Ben’s muscles and shapely form. It was sleeveless with red jagged designs across his chest. His boots reached his kneecaps, the mouth of the boots were rimmed with red. His hair was pulled back with a tie into a small ponytail, one tendril of hair fell onto each side of his face. It framed his brow nicely as the locks of hair tickled his high cheekbones. Hux could not help but think that Ben looked rather attractive, especially since every curve of his body was put on display. But of course this type of clothing was a basic performers attire. The light material allowed the wearer to stretch and move as they pleased without meeting any resistance. It was breathable, even as it clung to him as a second skin.

“As long as it bothers you. So, are you ready?” Hux folded his arms as he listened to the small crowd on the other side of the curtain. Ben folded his arms as well. His muscles flexing as he did. Hux definitely appreciated that.

“As I’ll ever be. Why? Are you worried?”

  
Hux cocked a brow at Ben’s tone. But he did not hate it.

“Just try not to mess up my clean stage with your blood…”  
“I thought you wanted me to shed blood for you, for this circus.”  
“So you remembered. Good. When I introduce you, do what you need to do to make it worth my while, as well as my paying customers.”  
“How are you going to introduce me? As Just Ben?”

For the first time since they have met, Hux let out a genuine laugh, Ben was taken back. They have only known one another for less than a day but Ben had pegged Hux as a very stoic and calculating character. But now in his bright red coat with the golden filigree and twin coat tails—Hux looked like a real ringmaster. He still looked tired, but Ben could tell Hux was a strong person.

“I’ll think of a name for you. Something catchy. Don’t worry your pretty head about it. Go over there to the ladder. It will take you to the cat walk. Once you are there you can do whatever you want. There is a trapeze, a tight rope, and a small platform for anything else you deem fit.”

  
Ben jutted out a hip and brought a fist to his chin in a teasing manner, “you think I’m pretty?”

Hux retorted in a haughty, yet chilled voice, “who wouldn’t?”

 

Ben's face went slack.  
.  
.  
.

_'Who wouldn’t?'_

Hux took his place in the center ring leaving a very confused and flustered Ben behind the curtain. He couldn’t shake the words from his memory. Was Hux just trying to mess with him, so he would fail? That can’t be it. From what he overheard earlier and from the little bit of information from Phasma—this circus was in financial ruin and Hux was in desperate need of new blood. But he was too proud and stubborn to admit it or ask for help.

_'I can’t figure this guy out…'_

 

Ben got a chill up his spine and shook his head. He needed to concentrate. He needed to succeed and entertain these people. He was nervous and had a cold sweat break out on his brow. Even with all the physical training he had done his entire life, he technically has only seen a performance of this caliber once in his life. He needed to pull from what he remembers and apply it to his act. Somehow.

Ben looked up at the trapeze set up in the air before he began his ascension up the steps to the platform. There were swings set up in a circular shape with a safety net about 15 or 20 feet from the swings. There were four swings total with enough space in between them to allow the performer to complete stunts before reaching for the next bar. He then noticed that the entire contraption was connected to several large pivots, with an axis connecting them all in the center, so each swing can spin individually. It was a spinning trapeze. Much more complicated than Hux originally led on before. When one swing plunged down, a corresponding swing will shoot up, all while turning—should the performer’s weight and momentum allow it. This was a roundabout meant for a duo.

The audience chairs were on all sides of the lifted stage below the swings. Every move he made would be seen by everyone. Granted the crowd was modest, but it was still something to remember.

He was out of sight of the audience for his spotlight was not on him just yet. In the darkness, all Ben could hear was his own breathing and his pulse beating erratically in his neck.  
Still he waited.

Looking down on the stage, he could see the top of Phasma’s head. Her blonde hair shining under the light. She was a sharpshooter and a trick whip artist. Ben watched as Phasma swung her whip in a wide arch, and with a powerful flick she broke a pear in half that was tossed in the air by a quiet looking man who joined her on the stage. He was shorter than Phasma, and Hux as well. His hair was slicked back and black much like his own. Ben could faintly see the smaller man biting his lip out of nervousness as he continued to toss larger and larger fruits, and eventually clay disks into the air for Phasma to shatter. Ben couldn’t help but snort at the nameless man’s nervous dance to avoid the broken fruit and plate pieces that were falling from the sky. He could hear Phasma laughing, but not a laugh that took joy from the nameless man’s uncomfortable stature, but because she enjoyed her talent.

The modest crowd clapped politely, not extremely enthused but entertained none the less.

  
_‘Something tells me this is an act they have seen before.’_

 

With a final crescendo of music, Phasma rolled her whip back up and took a bow. The nameless man next to her also took quick jerky bows and all but ran off the stage. Hux returned to the limelight, Phasma now next to him. Ben swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Now that the warm-up is over…I would like to mix things up tonight a bit if you do not mind. Tonight, for the first time ever, a new almost member of Snoke’s Circus will take the stage. And it is up to you, the audience, to decide his fate and if should he be allowed a place in this troupe. Above you, in the sky, for the first time ever, I give you— “

Ben held his breath again. He could almost hear his old Master’s voice telling him to let go of the breath and calm down.  
“—one who is sure to impress you all. Kylo.”

 

_‘Kylo?’_

Ben, now renamed as Kylo—had no more time to ponder Hux’s choice of a name before a spotlight was now blinding him. He was stiff on the platform. Everything was silent in his mind. He was afraid? His muscles were like rocks, heavy and unmoving. His jaw was tight, his tongue like a desert, craving for a cool drink.  
.  
.  
.  
_**Impress me.**_  
.  
.  
.  
Sound came to him again. He could hear the swell of music and the murmuring of the crowd below him. He was under their scrutiny. He could feel the heat of the lights again, and his grip on the swing before him. With one powerful leap, Ben—Kylo, took to the air.

_‘I can do this!’_

 

Kylo swung, reminiscent of how he would soar from the tree branches of D’Qar. His metal swing became a thick wooden branch and the platform morphed into the treetops hundreds of feet from the ground below. Kylo’s gripped loosened as he approached the first swing in the circle. Kylo executed a simple layout, using the momentum of his swing to launch his body to the next bar. Once he gripped the second bar, Kylo used the continued momentum to arch his body up, his knees coming close to his chest. The back of his knees hooked onto the bar as the swing continued to arch backwards. Using his upper body strength, Kylo reached up to the support ropes to bring his body in a sitting position.

The simple trick brought upon applause.  
His first applause.  
From a real audience.

 

Something swelled within Kylo’s chest. Something was ignited and it burned, melting within him, and it felt amazing. Whatever he was feeling, exploded. With new vigor and less fear, Kylo stood into a star position as he thrusted forwards than backwards to gain more speed. Twisting his hips, his swing began to spin. Concentrating on the next bar, Kylo timed his leap. Soaring from his spinning swing, he tucked his arms to his chest for a more streamlined whirl. The wind whipped around him. It was dizzying, yet he felt so free. In a single moment, everything he knew before, the life he once had was gone. All that was left was the here and now. The cheers of the crowd thudded against his skin in pinpricks. The jingling of the swings echoed through his ears.

 

With a new name, came a new life. Now he can be Kylo, a performer, a sky dancer, someone who can be happy without the responsibilities of being the future of the Jedi…or the son of Leia Organa and war hero, Han Solo.

Reaching out with his left arm, Kylo gripped the rope instead of the bar to cause the swing to sway in an arc parallel to the ground like an erratic carousel. His legs are brought together stiffly, coextending to the ground, thus forcing the swing to spin. Within two and a half turns, Kylo gave the entire room and good look at him, but he himself could not see their expressions.

Kylo again jettisoned himself to the next bar.

Gravity meant nothing now.

.  
.  
.

 

Hux stood flabbergasted in the darkened wings off stage below Ben—Kylo, he corrected himself. I named him Kylo.

 

Above him, was a man he has only known for less than a day. And yet he felt connected to him in a way that hasn’t been felt since Hux’s father had died. Hux’s eyes grew wider and wider as he watched the newly born Ben, turned Kylo—leaping and bounding to the next swing, barely making contact—until he shot off to the next one like a star racing across the cosmos, parading its bright splendor to the universe. Hux knew that the crescendo was approaching. He turned to the small booth behind him that controlled every technical aspect of the show—lights, music, cues—and made a gesture with his hand to alert the operator to extend the music.

 

Phasma took notice when Hux left her side in the wings to quickly remove his Father’s coat from his body and draped it across a chair nearby. Hux loosened his collar, removed his outer shirt and lightly smacked his face. He never took off that coat without him being close by to it, and yet here he is—briskly making his way to the steps that juxtaposed the steps Ben took to his platform, without it.

“H-Hux? What are you— “

“He impressed me, Phasma,” Hux continued his climb to Ben, “He definitely impressed me.”

“Hux, it’s been years since you—! HUX?!” Phasma was frazzled as she watched Hux make his way to the platform, but also she was…happy. Maybe Ben can save Hux and this circus. Looking out into the crowd, seeing those smiling faces as their eyes gazed upon the newly named Kylo—she begged to nobody in particular that she was right.

And she could’ve sworn that she saw Hux smiling.

~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~

Kylo’s chest was heaving as he dangled from the swing in a mermaid hold on the bar, with his left hand supporting his weight on the ropes and his legs laterally sitting on the bar. He waved to the crowd with his other hand, drinking in all the smiles and cheers. He did not know how long his performance was set to run, but he needed a quick breather before returning to the show. He continued to wave and gesture towards the crowd. Every breath burned, he was sweating—nearly glistening under the harsh lights, it was perfect.

Again he imagined an eight-year-old Ben sitting in the audience, watching the air dancers swim through the sky as it were a pool of crisp water.

  
With one last wave, Kylo pulled his body up again in a sitting position to prepare for his next swing when something caught his attention from the other side of the roundabout.

The lights blurred his vision, or it could’ve been the sweat from his brow—but he swears he sees light strawberry hair, and connected to it, a pale lithe body poured into a white tank top, suspenders and a pair of brown trousers tucked into knee high black boots.

Hux.

Hux was joining him?

With big, dark eyes, Kylo watched as Hux leapt onto the bar in front of him with little to no hesitation, forcing his own swing to shoot up suddenly thanks to Hux’s weight being thrusted on the swing. Now this twirling roundabout can be used to its full potential with a duo utilizing it. Making his way to his feet on the bar, he stood as he made eye contact with the red-headed ringmaster, and in turn Hux’s gaze delved into him like a spade through alluvial soil. Hux gave a nod from across the way, Kylo nodded in return.

_‘Follow my lead…Kylo.’_

 

Hux leapt to the next bar, barely touching the swing before he jumped to the next one like a gazelle through tall grass. In turn, Kylo did the same, keeping up with Hux’s agility, to make sure he would reach the bar before it lifted too high for him to catch. In a circle, a never ending cat and mouse game, the two danced with one another, forgetting the crowd below. Their eyes would catch one another, and Kylo swore Hux smiled or maybe even laughed. Throwing in a simple layout or spin, Hux was sure to keep up his speed.

 

Hux then stopped his swaggering around the circumference of the giant hoop and stood across from Kylo once more. The entire carousel was slowly spinning as they looked at one another. One last nod from the ringmaster, and Hux took a leap of faith towards Kylo. On instinct, Kylo swung with as much force as he could muster, dropping to his knees, hooking on the bar—reaching out towards the red-headed man—  
.  
.  
.  
_This, this has happened before…?_  
.  
.  
.  
_Why does this feel so familiar?_  
.  
.  
.  
Time slowed for both of them.

  
The music fuzzed in their ears and the lights brightened.  
There was nothing left around them, the crowd was gone.  
The man coming towards him no longer had a miasma around his face, but a halo of light hugging his silhouette, outlined in gold.  
Ben could feel Hux’s heartbeat through the force; reaching out into his mind without thinking, on instinct; the dark haired force user could hear—

_‘Ben.’_

Reality came barreling back to the two performers as the slap of skin on skin broke the day dream between them. Hux made contact with Kylo’s forearms, securing his hold on the younger man. Hux let out a breathy laugh, exhausted from his short performance. Being out of practice, Hux knew he pushed his limits, but Ben somehow rekindled as dwindling ember he thought was gone forever. His throat and belly burned from laughing and the amount of exertion he put forth in his stunts. With one last thrust of his legs, with help from Kylo, the two men made their way back to the main platform safely. Breathing heavily, Kylo, no it was Ben this time—grabbed Hux’s hand and lifted it into the air in triumph.

  
The crowd was small, but the cheers were thunderous. It had been years since Hux has heard such applause, such joy. Not since Brendol’s death had he felt this happy, this excited. He turned to look at his new troupe member. He looked at him, soaking in his features. The light bounced off his sweat slicked brow, his chest heaved and his mouth was upturned in an open mouthed smiled. His muscles flexed from the physical activity they just performed, and an airy laugh made its way from Ben’s throat. Ben was truly happy. He could tell. Ben’s happiness is a total paradox of Hux’s depression that he has been battling for years now, and the contradictory emotion heaved light onto Hux’s darkness. And it was Ben’s smile that gave Hux hope for a future where his Father’s legacy would not be left to ruins, and Snoke would get his money and leave Hux be.

Whether it was the adrenaline still coursing through him, or maybe something more, Hux made his way out of Ben’s grasp and took Ben’s chin into the palm of his hand—gentler and less teasing than he had when they met…

…and kissed him.

.  
.  
.

 

With each consecutive show, the crowd became larger and larger. Thanks to the word of mouth, news of this brand new trapeze artist burned the lips and ears of the Coruscanti public. Seats were being filled at an alarming rate and Hux had enough money to pay a crew to come in to sweep, mop, scrape gum and other treats from the floors, and also give the seats a quick but efficient paint job. Ben, also known as Kylo to the public and only been performing for a month and a half, yet his ever changing routine became an over-night sensation. Every performance was different, not a single jump or spin was the same as the night before. Partly because Ben was a pro at ad-libbing and also he enjoyed not knowing ahead of time what feat he would be pulling off. The excitement of an unscripted show only spurred his abilities and egged his courage. As long as Ben continued to bring in the crowds and amaze them, Hux did not fight him on this.

Even Phasma and Dopheld Mitaka—the black haired man who throws the fruit for Phasma’s whip—felt the crackling of reborn energy. Their routines became more daring, more fun to watch. Dopheld was less afraid of being hit by a blaster or whipped by Phasma’s rope. Dopheld surprised even Hux and Phasma when he decided to juggle the fruits and clay plates as he timed his throws for the blonde sharp-shooter to hit her target. Hux had no idea Dopheld could juggle. It became a game between Dopheld and Phasma to one up another on stage. If Phasma cracked her whip, slicing four pears in half—Dopheld would blindfold himself, still juggling the fruits and clay plates—without dropping a single one. There was even talk of Dopheld wanting to learn to balance on a barrel as he entered the stage. Hux was unsure as to how that would turn out, but ever since he allowed Ben to impress him that night—the spark his circus once had was beginning to come back. Not only that, but a fresh crew of hopeful performers and artists were sowing up, asking Him for an audition. Hux was nearly dumbfounded, but happy—of course he wouldn’t let his smile stay too long on his face in fear of Phasma’s teasing.

Especially since that night.  
.  
.  
.

“So was that scripted or do I see an infatuation coming to fruition?” She teasingly asked Hux after his impromptu performance with Ben on the trapeze.

“Phasma…?” He warned in an irritated tone.

“I’m only poking a bit of fun, Hux. But honestly, you were amazing up there. Just like the good ol’ times. Remember? I always loved watching you dance in the air like that. Of course you are very much out of practice, you need to get back on a training regimen.”

Hux rubbed his thumb and forefinger between his eyes, a headache was beginning to bloom, “Phasma, I am not planning on doing that again, why bother? Besides, I feel like utter shit.” Hux sat back into his chair in his office. He stared at the drawer which held his nicotine incense.

“You feel like shit because of that crap you inhale. You are done with it. You need to detox and get back on those swings again. I haven’t seen you smile like that in so long! And that kiss—!”  
“That kiss was nothing. I just got excited. I got caught up in the energy of the moment. And as for the performance, I don’t know why I did it. Just seeing Ben up there…a mere amateur looking so wondrous and beautiful in the air. I don’t know…it reminded me of the past and it felt…. nice.”

“And I think that is good for you. Good for the circus. You two looked great together and without any type of rehearsal either. It looked almost planned to tell you the truth. You should consider doing it again. The fact you even bothered to enter the ring to introduce Ben was astonishing in itself. You hadn’t been a part of a show in years—not as a trapeze artist, nor a proper Ringmaster ever since…”

Hux let out an audible breath and stared at the drawer once more, “ever since Father passed. I know.”

“Hell Hux,” the blonde sharpshooter wiggled in her chair in front of Hux’s desk, her arms folded, she smiled, looking up at the ceiling, “you have been more like an accountant than a ringmaster. And even then, you are very poor at it.” She laughed when Hux’s ears turned just as red as his hair.  
“There is no money, how could I run a circus properly without money?!”  
“Well now we have Ben. Maybe now we can finally pay off whatever we need to and sever any ties with...certain individuals.” Phasma completely ignored Hux’s prior comment.  
“Those certain individuals still hold a hefty debt over my head. It will be some time before that can be addressed. I will take what you have said into consideration, Phasma. Please leave, I have work to do.”

Phasma shook her head but chuckled anyway, “Good night, Boss.” She left the room in search of Ben, making sure he was settling in alright, maybe catch a quick dinner before bed.  
.  
.  
.

In his office, Hux sighed and sunk lower into his chair, he reached for the desk drawer and pulled it open. He pushed aside the incense hesitantly and pulled out a weathered looking holo-projector. He turned it on. A blue flickering memory appeared in his hand. A middle aged man and a young boy of 11 stood in the palm of his gloved hand. The man was wearing a long coat with BH sewn into his lapel, and a large top hat sat on his head. The boy was in a simple trapeze outfit and boots, hair combed to the right, his chest puffed out to make himself seem bigger—he had a huge smile on his face. Hux’s thumb wavered over the play button, he bit his lip as it pressed down on it…

The recording began to play; hilariously cheesy calliope music can be heard faintly in the background. Behind the man and boy was Snoke’s Circus tent, back in its prime when the colours of the material were bright and voluminous. The coated man opened his mouth to speak, “If you want to be completely amazed and stupefied beyond your imagination, come to Snoke’s Circus tonight! You will not be disappointed!” The boy next to him was still smiling, looking almost too excited, leaning from one foot to the other. He leapt in front of the man, nearly knocking him over.

“You can come see ME, the star of the show—on the trapeze!! And some other people!” The man looked at the boy again, shaking his head but smiling.

  
“That is not the line, Percival—BUT YES, come see MY son perform in the sky for all of Coruscant to see!” The man gathered his son in his arms to lift him onto his shoulders, boy whooping as he was seated on his father’s shoulders. The remainder of the recording skipped, signaling that it was over, and ready to play over. Shutting it off, Hux gently put the small holo-projector back into his desk—he dimmed the lights once more and leaned his aching head into his hands and wept.  
.  
.  
.

 

The overly large tent was empty. Only the smaller stage lights were left on. Everyone had gone home, but the cheers of the crowd were engrained in Ben’s memory. He was laying on the safety net that was still dangling in the air. His arms were folded behind his head as he stared up towards the ceiling. It has been over a week since his first performance, and since Hux kissed him on the platform. They have barely spoken since then. Hux was either making calls to vendors or paying some kind of bill or speaking to hopeful performers. Locked into his office, Hux was damn near impossible to reach. Phasma and Dopheld have become his constant companions, as well as the crew members and the modestly sized tech crew. He has learned everyone’s names and was informed of their roles in Snoke’s Circus. He even heard stories of the circus’ past…its troubles…. Hux’s father, Brendol…and Snoke himself. Ben had no idea just how deep financially this circus was indebted, but he was determined to correct that. He will help this circus get back on its feet, and reach its former glory. Back to how he remembered it when he was a child, and when his parents were happy.

But the kiss has added even more stress and confusion to the situation.

 

_‘Does Hux like me?’_ Ben thought to himself. _‘We barely know each other, but I feel connected to him somehow. By the Force…’_

Ben’s face became heated at the memory of Hux’s mouth on his. The kiss was quick, but it felt an eternity passed until Hux pulled away and quickly made his way down the ladder to get away from him. Phasma had to close the show, thanking the crowd for coming and to tell their friends what they saw tonight. And apparently that simple nudge worked, because more people came to see him. To watch him dance in the sky. Which he now loves more than anything, but it was missing something. It was missing the dynamic of Hux leaping from bar to bar alongside him. The sensation of Hux’s gloved fingers around his forearms. Feeling the taut muscles of Hux’s arms and legs—even though their contact was brief it left a lasting impression. _‘I need to see him.’_

With new determination, Ben rolled out of the safety net, lounging to the ground like a tiger in stalk of its next meal. He made his way through the labyrinthine halls of backstage to Hux’s office. Reaching for the handle, Ben paused. A voice was coming from inside the office. And it was…crying? Leaning his ear against the door, Ben stifled his breathing. It was crying, but not a wailing type of cry. But a gentle whimpering, full of mourning and sorrow and hiccups.

Ben could not bring himself to open the door. It didn’t seem right to do so. Turning on his heels quietly, Ben made his way back to his respective room.

.  
.  
.

Another performance over, Hux and Phasma were counting the credit receipts from tonight’s show. Phasma could see that Hux was overjoyed to see so many credits littering his desk, nearly covering every corner of it. Tonight was a particular interesting night. When Ben was performing his well-awaited set, Phasma noticed that Hux’s fingers were twitching and he was rocking back and forth on his heels. He wanted to join Ben again, but he was fighting it. She had a thought to encourage him to go, but she let it slide regrettably. She was also aware of Ben’s behaviour. Whether he realized it or not, Ben would look to the platform from which Hux made his appearance that night, when he leapt into the air to be with Ben on the trapeze. Perhaps hopeful to see his red-haired ringmaster there once more. But he never showed. It was almost sad, albeit pathetic. Phasma can see the chemistry these two shared and yet they were both like comets, parallel to one another, never destined to cross paths.

An incessant beeping shook her from her thoughts. It was Hux’s comlink. It only ever alerted an incoming message when it was from Snoke himself. Phasma knew the drill. She left quietly, but not before looking over her shoulder, giving her friend a concerned smile. She was gone.

Hux straightened up his appearance, putting on his coat and buttoning his shirt all the way up his neck. He stood in front of his desk, squaring his shoulders as he pushed the blue button. Snoke’s ancient grey face made itself know a top of Hux’s desk. The room Snoke was in looked just as grey as his facial features, and it was smokey and hazy. Hux stilled his heartbeat. Even after years of seeing Snoke’s gruesome face, it still unnerved him. As a child, it took all his willpower to not cower behind his father’s coat. Putting on an air of business and confidence, Hux folded his arms behind his back, “Sir? What and who can I thank for this sudden yet appreciated call?”

“I have heard through the grapevine of your new and welcomed success, Percival Hux.”

Snokes leaned back into the chair he was sitting in. His robes drenched across his lap spilling over the arms of the chair. Hux curled his toes out of nervousness, a habit he had not been able to break since childhood, “Yes, Sir. Although this particular act is very new, and certain kinks need to be worked out—we are surging in ticket sales as of recently.”

“So then why, Percival, was I not informed of this development? I am Snoke, after all. My name is in the title and on the deed of this circus. Whatever money you make, belongs to me and to those you are indebted to. I have not forgotten about those now have I? Why I allowed this project to continue after your father’s demise—I do not know. I was very fond of Brendol…”

  
Hux never understood why Snoke would ramble on and on whenever they spoke. He also hated how he said his first name, as if he was spitting it out of his mouth— _Percival_.

  
“I understand Sir, but believe me I wanted to insure that this success was not a fly by night operation. I merely wanted to wait and see if this new-found increase in sales would remain steady before informing you. And I do believe that they will, Sir.”

_Bugger off._

“See to it that it does, Percival. I also intend to watch the upcoming show through the holonet tonight, to witness this—Kylo individual. I hear he is quite the wonder on the trapeze. I have seen his face though—through the net—very handsome, tall and powerful. A very alluring act to bring in those who might have more lustful intentions.”

Hux swallowed an angry lump in his throat. How dare he speak of Ben as if he were a piece of meat, a conquest? Where did this protectiveness come from? Hux thought loudly to himself.

  
“I will be sure to keep you more informed, Sir. My apologies for not contacting you earlier. Was there anything else you wished to discuss?”

“Actually, yes, the reason I am calling is not to bemoan your lack of attentiveness—but rather to warn you that a special guest of mine will be attending the performance tonight. Be sure to treat him and his entourage well, Percival. I will know if they are not taken care of…”

  
“May I ask who will be attending tonight?”

  
“All you need to know is that they have deep ties with the Hutts. That should be enough incentive for you and your troupe. Whatever they ask for you will give it to them, is that clear—Percival?”

Hux’s mouth went dry, his tongue nearly cracking into dust, disintegrating down his throat and into his belly. The Hutt clan? Why now? Because of Ben? Have they heard about the feats of Kylo and his wondrous performances? What has piqued their interests after all this time?

“Clearer than clear, Sir. You do not have to worry about the Hutt Clan. They will be treated as the Queens of Naboo’s past. I guarantee it.” Hux gave a short bow, but did not raise his head, hoping that this conversation was nearly over.

“See to it that you do not let me down, Percival Hux. I will know should you fail. The Hutt clan may not be as large as it once was during the Empire, but they have their slimey tails in many pots nowadays, and a lot of money goes through them. Keep that in mind. Good evening.”

With that, Snoke vanished from the room. Hux wiped the thin sheen of sweat from his brow. He had preparations to make.

.  
.  
.

One hour until show time.

Hux was briskly walking to and fro, and up and down and left to right—making sure everything was perfect for the Hutts arrival. The Hutt clan would have their own personal booth, attendants at their beck and call with food, snack and drink. From their booth they would get a good look at Ben’s act, and hopefully be impressed.

“Ben!”

Hux was finally able to track Ben down in the large dressing room that all the performers shared. The room was brightly lit, mirrors and vanities were spread amongst the many costumes and masks strewn about the tables. Perfume and hair sprays scented the air so strongly it could knock out a rancor cold with one wafting whiff.

“Oh, hey, Hux…” Ben turned to see Hux nearly running towards him as he sat in front of the vanity mirror preparing for his act tonight. He wore a full body piece with a vest-like top, along with a thin half cape made with sparkling transparent material. The body piece and vest was completely white, strewn with a gold designs along the silhouette of the clothing and along the vests thin lapels. The transparent cape was a light gold that would catch the light as Ben soared through the air. His forearms were decorated with gold, leather vambraces. He also wore boots that came over his knee caps that were also white with gold tips. Ben was not a fan of wearing makeup, but Phasma insisted sprucing up his face a bit with a light powder to brighten his eyes and bring out his cheekbones. She also curled his lashes with one coat of mascara without it looking fake. The hollows of his cheeks were dusted with a rose colored powder too. His hair was pulled back in his typical fashion with a thin yellow band.

Hux fumbled his words after drinking in Ben’s appearance, “Yes, well, Ben—as Phasma told you we have benefactors in the audience tonight. I need you to bring your all tonight. Really impress them. They are going to be in the north facing booth. They are not the pretty type, but they still like to be flirted with…”

“Hux, believe me, I know of the Hutts. I mean, who doesn’t?”

“I’m just warning you, Ben. But I do not want you to feel overloaded, but—this is rather important.”

“I understand, Hux. I won’t let you down, I know what I’m doing for the most part.”

“For the most part?!”

  
Ben couldn’t help but laugh at how frazzled Hux was becoming. For the short time they have known one another, he has never seen him so worked up before. Ben has never met or seen a member of the Hutt clan before, but he has heard enough stories from his Uncle Luke to understand the severity of his situation, “At least 85%, I have this down, hehe.”

Hux huffed at Ben’s bravado, but also could not help but think Ben’s smirk was rather cute. His face heated up a he continued to look into Ben’s dark eyes, his mischievous grin still on his face, “Ben…about…that...situation before…the kiss— “

A voice cut through the thick air like melted butter. It was Phasma, with Dopheld close behind her. She clapped her hand on Ben’s shoulder.

“Places everyone! We got a full house tonight. Chop, chop!” Phasma turned to Dopheld, hands on her hips, “Dopheld, go check on those newbies. I want them on trampoline in five! Hux! Why am I doing all the work while you stand here looking pretty?! Are you going to introduce the first act or not tonight?”

Hux grimaced and cleared his throat. He really wanted to speak to Ben about the incident, to have his input. Did the kiss feel invasive? Did he hate it?......Like it?

“I’ll do it, Phasma. Just get everybody else set up and ready. Tonight has to go perfectly for our special guests. Ben—I trust you.” With one final wavering look, Hux smoothed out the front of his coat and headed towards the wings of the stage. Music began to play, the lights flickered on, and he stepped into the blazing heat of the stage.  
.  
.  
.  
The first acts, the trampoline troupe, the fire eaters, Phasma and Dopheld attempting to one-up another—went on smoothly. Every few minutes or so, Hux would look up into the booth where three Hutts sat in their gelatinous ooze, grunting and wiggling in what seemed to be in delight. Hux assumed they were enjoying the show and as well as the pounds and pounds of food they were consuming at an alarming rate. Attendants that were specifically hired for the job of waiting on the Hutt family scurried about filling the disgusting alien’s goblets with thick drink and tending to their mess of discarded and sometimes half eaten snacks that were tossed onto the floor. The final act before Ben was to take to the air finished with a flamboyant bow and sauntered off out of the main ring, into the darkened wings. Hux once again took his place in the limelight, his eyes casted to the sky knowing that Ben was awaiting his cue. ' _How beautiful he will look in his white and gold attire_ ,' Hux thought.

  
“Settle down everyone, I know why you all came tonight. You came because you all have wondered what it would be like to fly, yes? To truly fly without the need of an air taxi…a speeder…. or heh…a freighter. Well tonight, someone special will show you that it is possible. Cast your gazes up and he will do just that!”

 

With a crack of a drum, Ben leapt from his platform—swing hand and arched his way to the center of the tent. Instead of his usual circular set-up, the trapeze tonight was more linear, but still contained the spinning swing. Ben has discovered a fondness for this particular swing. There were platforms of varying heights constructed at random areas of the stage for Ben to better utilize an array of diverse stunts. He flew his way to the center swing to wrap his legs around the support rope to force it to spin as he sunk lower and lower until he was dangling from the twirling bar solely with on leg. This was a definite crowd pleaser. There was a loud roar from the crowd. It spurred Ben’s energy as he unwrapped himself from the swing to perform a layout to the Hutts booth across the way.

 

‘Wh-what is he doing?’ Hux looked up in horror as Ben made his way to the Hutts. Clenching his teeth—he watched as Ben landed on the short lanai where the Hutts sat. A look of shock but also interest made its way across the largest of the Hutts large face. Ben spun his way across the lanai, practically pirouetting from one side to the other, and back flipped back onto the swing that made its way back to Ben’s awaiting grasp. The red headed ringmaster broke out into a cold sweat, but wiped his brow when he noticed that the Hutts were laughing in their typical guttural fashion, clutching their bellies before shoveling more food down their gullets. Ben gave himself a mental high five. He knew that would spark a reaction in those Hutts.

 

Ben curled himself into a ball as he fell down on the next platform, only to quickly leap off onto a new swing which he then abandoned to make a long descent towards the ground. Hux’s stomach dropped as he witnessed Ben drop down and down until he reached the oversized trampoline that was left over from the previous act. Where was the safety net?! Hux did not authorize the safety net to be removed. How had he not noticed?

  
Using all the power he could muster from his thighs, Ben jumped from the trampoline to soar back into the sky, holding a beautiful pose—Ben was drowned in the lights, his silhouette trimmed in golden light, as if suspended in the sky. His translucent half-cape fluttered around him, encircling his body like sunshine after a spring rain. The audience was near silent at the sight. Slowly Ben made his descent back onto a swing that lazily made its way under him. With one final thrust of his weight, the sky dancer with raven hair gingerly landed on to the main platform. The crowd rose to their feet, applause erupted like a thunder storm, the Hutts guttural amused laughter could be heard cutting through the air.  
.  
.  
.

“Ben—that—that was amazing!”

“Thanks Dopheld, I hope it was enough to impress our guests. I’m exhausted.” Ben’s chest heaved deeply, slightly burning with each intake of breath. His hair was messed and slicked back with sweat. The crowd made its way out of the arena, still gabbing on about the amazing Kylo’s performance.

“And who took down the safety net? That was a stroke of genius…but I don’t think Hux was too happy about it.” Ben let out a nervous chuckle. He knew that Hux wouldn’t have authorized the safety net being taken down, so he did it himself—okay, so Phasma might have distracted him long enough to unhook the net himself before the show and before their awkward conversation.

  
“Weeeeell— “  
“Ben!”

  
Ben slightly cringed at Hux’s outraged voice. He swore he can see a vein throbbing against Hux forehead. Hux finally stood in front of both Dopheld and Ben, Dopheld could sense his presence was not needed and excused himself to go in search of a rock to hide from the storm that was about to ensue.  
“Hux— “

“Ben, walk with me to my office…now.”  
.  
.  
.

The young ex-Jedi has never seen Hux like this before, like a seething rancor being unleashed on the unsuspecting public. Ben swallowed the ball stuck in his throat as he followed Hux to his dimly lit office. Hux made his way to behind his desk, plopping into his chair—he cradled his aching head in his hands. It was quiet and awkward. Ben tried to open his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He bit his lip and fiddled with his costume until he was able to force something coherent from is throat, “…Hux about the net.”

“This is not about the net, Ben. Yes…at first I was angry but like I said before you went on stage, I trust you. Plus, you weren’t heard and the performance was mesmerizing.”

Ben shook his head, “so then…what’s wrong?”

“The Hutts. It has come to my attention that your performance left a huge impression on them. They liked your act.”

“Well that’s good, right? Wasn’t that the point?”

Hux looked back up to the confused young man. The ginger haired ringmaster had a forlorn look on his face. A worried crinkle on his brow—the downturned mouth—glassy eyes…something was wrong. Hux leaned back into his chair. Ben’s heart was beating too fast and too hard to contain, “Hux, tell me, please!”

“The Hutts liked your act so much they contacted Snoke directly after. They are requesting your company in their quarters…tonight. Do you understand Ben?”

Ben’s body felt heavy. His tongue thickened with fear. His muscles went taught as he clenched his fists at his sides, “What did you say to them?”

“This is out of my hands…. the Hutts have so many credits hanging over my head. I owe them a hefty debt, debts that go back to when my father was still alive. Ben—they agreed that if you were to grace them with your personal company, they would forgive those debts. That is how much you impressed them. You did too well.”

“Do you—are they expecting—sexual things…?” Ben turned to Hux’s door, head hanging low. A thick ball was trapped in his throat, a painful lump filled with anxiety, fear and mourning clinging to his esophagus, “Hux...?”

“I can only assume so, Ben. But you do not have to do this! It will take much longer, but we are bringing in money now. Thanks to you, and the new morale that has spread across the cast. We can pay off those debts in time.” Hux stood from his chair, knocking it over as he made his way to the shaking man, “Ben, I shouldn’t have told you this. I should’ve just said no. But I was afraid. Snoke messaged me himself after your performance, but I couldn’t say no. I am still—afraid of him. Nearly 30 years and I’m still….”

“I’ll do it.”

“Ben, don’t. I’m sorry. But you can’t do this. Don’t sell yourself away.”

“Heh, it’s only one night…right? I’ll I have to do is wriggle my hips, smile….”

“Don’t talk like that. You don’t deserve this, Ben.”

“Maybe not, but ever since I was 8 years old I have wanted to leave my life to come to this place. To be a part of the circus that made me so happy. I have dreamt coming here for 11 years and now I have the chance to save it. I have tasted the crowd’s admiration, Hux. I don’t…I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose this.”

Hux rushed to bring his hands to Ben’s quivering face. He cradled the teary eyed man’s head like an injured sparrow who had fallen from their nest. Salty tears raced from Ben’s eyes to soak Hux’s gloves. Hux’s mouth hung open slightly, his voice searching for the right words to ease Ben’s worry, but nothing came. At least nothing intelligible. Ben let out hiccupped sobs. His own hand being brought up to cover his mouth in an attempt to muffle the embarrassing noises coming from his throat. He forced himself into Hux’s arms, hiding his face in the older man’s chest. He can feel his knees beginning to shake. He wanted to sit or lay down, but Hux’s body felt warm—firm, but soft enough to want to meld into Hux’s form. Hux threaded his fingers into Ben’s thick but still sweaty hair.

“I’m scared, Hux.”  
“I know.”  
.  
.  
.  
The crowd was large and rather annoying. The man with salt and pepper hair had to fight against the people as they were exiting the oversized tent. He saw children with wide toothy smiles clutching their half-eaten snacks, some had balloons tied around their wrists, as their parents held their hand so they do not get separated. The man continued his way into the entrance of the circus. He looked around to see if there was anyone that would prevent him from entering. All he saw was a shorter man with slick black hair walking awkwardly from the backstage to the exit opposite of him.  
‘Well somebody looks nervous.’

The man looked to the darkened wing where the nervous looking person came from and figure that this must be the way to go. He was taken to a hallway filled with racks of props, costumes and lighting equipment. Turning down another hall he can see a dim light coming from under a door, voices were from behind the door too. The man put his ear up against the door. Someone was crying. A male voice was crying. There was another voice, someone sounding slightly older, but just as distraught.

“I’m scared.”  
“I know.”

The strange man’s eyes shot open.  
He shoved the door open with such a ferocity that the two men standing in the room let out twin yelps. Han Solo clenched his fists as he saw his 19-year-old son in the arms of an older man, crying and shaking.  
.  
.  
.  
_“Han! Han! You need to come see this! HAN!”_

_Leia called from the gangplank of the Falcon. They had landed on a strange jungle planet to resupply to continue their search for their runaway son. They had gotten word of Ben’s disappearance from Luke 3 weeks ago. Leia was stationed on D’Qar and Han was lazing about on Bardotta, never truly being able to be rid of his wanderlust bug. They came together within two days’ time to begin their journey. Luke came with them on the Falcon, Chewie and Artoo in tow as well. Threepio was left on D’Qar to settle matters while Leia was away. Han scampered up the plank to meet his plucky wife and bearded brother-in-law, Luke Skywalker._

_“Han, look what we found on the holonet. I thought I was going crazy, or seeing things, but Luke agrees with me--!”_  
_“Calm down, Princess—what did you two see?”_

  
_Luke, seated on the booth, looked up and Han then to Leia next to him, “Well, Leia and I were discussing how Ben has been blocking us from his mind. He has created a wall around his thoughts and emotions. Ben and I had always had a good relationship, and contacting him through the Force is a second nature to me…. until now. I can’t reach him_ because he does not want to be found. At least not yet…”

  
_“Or if ever,” Han spat._  
_“Han— “_  
_“So what is it that you want to show me?”_

_Luke pressed the small activator button to show Han what they had found on the holonet purely by chance. There was no sound—perhaps a malfunction considering the rust bucket that is the Falcon—but the picture was clear. And in front of the golden trio, was a young man zipping through the air with such grace, one would think he was a dove incarnate. His hair was dark, much like his eyes. He was tall and strong looking. He was wearing a simple costume consisting of black and red material allowing free movement. Boots hugged his calves and armbands were wounded tightly from_ wrist to elbow.

  
_It looked to be some kind of advertisement. Not at all fancy, perhaps low budget, but it got the point across. The name Kylo flashed before their eyes, along with the address that is located on Coruscant, and the price of admission. Luke shut it off._

  
_Han was silent._

  
_Leia bit her lip, but wanted to smile. They have found their son. He is on Coruscant, and has apparently made quite a name for himself. She never knew Ben was capable of such graceful feats. And he looked to be happy too. She hadn’t seen him smile so much since…._

_“Han?” Luke uttered. Han Solo squared his shoulders and barked directions to Chewie to mark their destination to Coruscant. Artoo beeped gleefully._  
.  
.  
.

“Ben?”

  
Ben Organa-Solo lightly pushed Hux away with a hand on the Ringmaster’s chest. With large, watering eyes Ben looked in disbelief at the man in the doorway. Standing in the doorway, was Han Solo, his father. Uncombed salt and pepper hair, scruffy grey five o ‘clock shadow, brown weathered jacket—it is most definitely his father. A father he had not seen since he was 15 years old. Since when they last said good-bye on Tattooine. He remained in contact with his mother, his Father not so much.

“Dad—? How—? You’re here?”  
“Yeah…. how are ya’, Ben?”

Hux felt awkward and took a step back to allow the father-son pair speak. He thrusted his hands in his pockets, never taking notice of the wet mark Ben had left on his shirt. So this was the famous Han Solo?

HAN.  
_SOLO._

Ben’s father is Han Solo, a hero of the galaxy. No wonder Ben did not want to give Hux his full name. Hux looked downcast at his shoes. He wanted to leave the office but Han was blocking the door, and neither, father nor son, had moved. Ben dragged his forearm across his face, a sad attempt to erase the tears that were just racing down his cheeks. He knew his eyes must be red and puffy, his nose equally as pink. Ben cleared his throat, only to be interrupted by Han.

“Ben, why did you run from Luke? Why did you block him and your mother from you? And what the Hell is going on here?”

With two quick strides, Han made his way to his son. Ben flinched as Han took his son’s face into his hands, roughly drying his face with the sleeve of his jacket in a fatherly manner.

  
“You’re crying—why?!”

  
Hux felt a chill run up and down his spine when Han Solo gave a quick turn of his head to glare at him.  
“If you are insinuating that I am the cause of this…”  
Even though deep down, he sort of was in a way.

“What right do you have to come barging in here trying to act all fatherly? This is none of your business!”

  
“None of my—you’re my son, you ARE my business!”

  
“When it is convenient for you! Not if I get in the way of you going on adventures, gallivanting across the galaxy with Chewie, barely sending word to me or Mom or Uncle Luke! So I am asking again, why are you here?!” Ben twisted his way out of his father’s grip and went to stand behind Hux’s desk. Hux was still being awkward in the corner of the room, watching the scene before him.

“To bring you home, Ben. That is why I am here. We all saw your little ad on the holonet. That is how we found you. We know about ‘Kylo’. And your little trapeze act. You do realize that “go off to join the circus” is just a figure of speech, right?”

  
“What ad? The holonet? Hux?”

Hux swallowed loudly as he looked to Ben, “I may have put up an advertisement. But I did not know you had some kind of secret identity! The circus was doing so well, so I took a little bit of money to expand our audience. How was I supposed to know that Han SOLO, is your father and you didn’t want to be found? Did you really think that you could blow up on stage so suddenly and not have your face plastered across Coruscant, let alone the galaxy? Ben—I didn’t know.”

Ben knew it wasn’t Hux’s fault, not entirely anyway. He knew that he was living his fantasy, his dream—but he should’ve realized of the consequences of becoming a sensation, “I am not going with you. Yu can’t make me. I am 19 years old now. I’m not that puny 15-year-old kid you hardly said good-bye to on Tattooine!”

“Ben, you are getting on the Falcon now. We all saw your little show tonight. And I will admit, you are good. But you have played dress up long enough. You made a commitment to your Uncle to finish your training. And as much as that Force stuff still gives me the willies, you need to come back with me, now.”

  
“What do you mean ‘we’… Mom here too?”

  
“Yes, Mom, Luke, Chewie and Artoo. They all came to drag your butt back to Tattooine. If you’re lucky that is. I doubt your Mother is going to let you out of her sights now…”

  
“No…I refuse! This place is what I have thought about ever since I was 8 years old. I trained myself for this.”  
“This place? Why?”

  
“Damnit Dad, don’t you remember? You brought me here…”

  
“Look kid, all I know is that your Mother wants you home. Not parading in frilly costumes in front of the entire galaxy. So come on. Sorry to steal your star away, Carrot Top.” Hux grimaced when Han grabbed for Ben’s wrist. He took a step forward to take back Ben, but the raven haired man twisted his father’s grip once more as he shouted, “NO!”

Han was thrown back onto the wall by an invisible wind. The older man rubbed the back of his head vigorously, using the wall to steady himself once more. He was panting, and chuckling in shallow breaths.

“Heh, haven’t gotten one of those since you were six. Fine, you want it to be like this…fine. I’m going, kid. At least be man enough to look your mother in the eyes as you break her heart again. We are not too far from here, just look for the Falcon in a huge old hanger. See ya’.”

With that, Han Solo took his leave, angrily shutting the door behind him. His footsteps echoing through the halls.

 

Hux’s mouth was agape. Ben looked like he wanted to cry, but he was also terrifying. His hair was a mess, tears threatened to spill over, his face was red and splotchy. His fists were clenched, and the rest of his body was shaking. Ben’s breathing was uneven through clamped teeth.

“Ben…? What was that?”

  
“I’m sorry Hux, I haven’t had a tantrum like that in a while. Luke always said I had a temper.”

  
“And by Luke…you mean…. Skywalker, yes? And your Father mentioned training. So I can only assume you are a Jedi.”

  
“I am trained in the ways of the Jedi, yes.” Hux threw himself into his chair once more, his nerves fried as he leaned back. That incense is starting to look good right about now.

  
“Ben…. Ben Solo?”

“Ben Organa-Solo.”

  
“Leia…Organa. By the stars, I have had a prince under my tent this whole time.”

Ben leaned up against the desk, his back facing Hux, “I guess.”

  
There was silence. It was thick and awkward.

  
“Percival.”

  
Ben slowly turned to look at Hux whose eyes were closed, still leaning back into his chair, “what?”

  
“That is my name. Percival Hux. Named by my Father, Brendol Hux.”

  
“Heh…cute.”  
“Shut up.”  
“Ben, you do realize we still have a certain matter on our hands.”  
“Don’t worry, Hux. I’ll take care of it.”

Hux reached across the desk to place his hand over Ben’s, he gently squeezed it, “Whatever you wish to do...Ben.”  
Ben smiled as he brought Hux’s hand to his chapped lips, to kiss the ringmasters gloved knuckles.

  
.  
.  
.

  
On the Falcon, the Skywalker siblings felt a coldness through their minds. It was Ben. Luke looked towards his sister, he can see her eyes beginning to fill with tears. He approached her to take her shaking body into his arms in a comforting hug. Ben had allowed his walls to crumble just enough to allow his emotions be felt by his force sensitive family members. They felt his anger, his sadness, his guilt. Luke may be wrong, but he thought he felt an inkling of...relief? Relief to being found? Angry because it was Han who was sent to fetch him? Should he have gone, or Leia?  
Luke patted his sister’s hair as he tried to make sense of Ben’s conflicting emotions. The wall now had a small chip in it. Luke felt, like a beacon—where Ben was. He could almost see Ben’s red face as he unleashed his wrath upon Han.

Even if Han had failed, he can now reach out to Ben to send soothing waves to his lost nephew. I only for a short time.

  
.  
.  
.

  
After a quick shower, a change of clothes, and a spritz of a scented water Phasma had given him as a congratulatory gift after his first performance—he was ready to face the Hutts. Hux—Percival—Ben thought with a smile, offered to go with him, to where the Hutts were staying on Coruscant. Ben shook his head, explaining if Hux went with him, he would chicken out and beg Hux to take him home. That would only cause more trouble for Hux and for the circus. He did not want to incite any anger from Snoke himself either.

Ben used his black coat with the large hood to cover his face as he sat himself in the airtaxi summoned by Hux. Before shutting the door, Hux reached in to stroke Ben’s face lovingly. His eyes were soft, even in the darkness of night—they were bright and wide, but also now, they were saddened to see Ben go. To see him sell himself for the night to save his Father’s legacy, a legacy he allowed to crumble more year after year.

  
“Ben, are you sure…?”

  
“Yes, and after tonight, we can forget about this and make this circus the most beautiful and fantastic thing on Coruscant. Together.” Ben cupped Hux’s hand that was still over his cheek, leaning into it, shutting his eyes.  
_‘I want to kiss him. Don’t go. Stay with me’_  
Ben’s eyes shot open.

“Percival—? I…hmm, never mind.”  
“Be careful, Ben. Please.”  
“I will. Don’t worry. I’ll be back in the morning. Be sure to have some flatcakes ready for me, and some caf, okay?”  
“Of course…”

With that, Hux’s warm hand left Ben’s cheek and shut the door. With a sad twitch of his mouth, he stood back as the air taxi sped into the hectic Coruscanti traffic.  
.  
.  
.

  
Ben began to regret not telling Hux that he had heard his voice in his head. He concluded it was the will of the Force. He had feelings for Hux, and Hux in return requited them. They have had small moments of contact, but they have never kissed.

Only two people had been able to speak to him through the Force—the obvious one, his Master and Uncle, Luke and his Mother. Less his Mother than his Uncle since he was the Jedi Master, so hearing Hux’s voice took him back. Ben must have been probing Hux’s mind unintentionally, seeking comfort from his ringmaster.

  
Ben sadly looked out into the Coruscanti night-life. Colors from the other airtaxis, advertisements, and buildings blurred past him. He did not realize that his eyes beginning to water to closer he got to his destination.  
.  
.  
.

  
Hux stood on the platform where Ben’s vehicle just departed from. For several minutes, he stared into the sky watching as Ben’s taxi grew smaller and smaller from his sight. The Hutts were not very far. They were staying at a luxurious manor type hotel, the best Coruscant could provide.

He thought of Ben’s large dark eyes and soft hair…his bright smile when he was up on the trapeze or helping Phasma sweep the stage. He thought of Ben’s warm hand under his as they stood in his office after the altercation with Han Solo.

A sudden heart clenching panic overtook his chest—he began breathing heavily, and broke out into a cold sweat.

  
_‘What have I done?’_  
.  
.  
.

  
The large ritzy hotel was brightly lit with warm light, but felt so cold on his skin. He was led to the upper part of the hotel—the most expensive rooms most likely—by a blue skinned humanoid female. Her smile was plastic-like, her hair was pink and cut into a bob. It barely moved as she walked him to the elevator. She told him he must ride up to the Hutt’s loft alone, for she was not allowed that far. Ben nodded and pushed the button that would take him to the highest loft in the building.

  
.  
.  
.

  
Hux ran and ran, with Phasma at his side.

They both knew what hanger Han Solo was speaking of. There were not many hangers large enough to house the Millennium Falcon this close to the entertainment district. Phasma had her whip and one phaser on her hips. Hux, also one phaser at his side thanks to Phasma’s large collection. He has minor training with a phaser but with it by his side gave him vast amounts of courage. Turning down a narrow alley way that opened up to a large lot, Hux and Phasma found the Falcon parked under a large overhang. They sped up to the huge, almost rickety looking ship.

  
“Han Solo! Please open up!”

  
There was silence. They must not be able to hear them, “damnit!”

  
“I got this, Boss!”

  
Phasma aimed her small phaser towards the Falcon and shot at it. The small laser barely nicking the ships broadside. It seemed to be enough though to gain the attention of whoever was inside. The plank slowly opened, but it was not Han Solo that came from inside. A huge walking carpet—a Wookie, made its way down the plank. It let out an annoyed shrill roar, its head shaking.

“My apologies!” Hux slowly walked towards the irritated creature, his hands in front of him, “I came for Han Solo and Leia Organa. Their son is in trouble and I need their help!”

Chewbacca gave a concerned yelp and motioned for Hux and Phasma to come inside the Falcon. Voices echoed as the two circus folk made their way inside. One voice, he recognized was Han, there were two other voices, and some beeping.

“You should have dragged him back by his hair, Han! I don’t care if he threw a temper tantrum, you’re his father!”  
“Well, I’m sorry Princess, but he used his Jedi voodoo to toss me up against a wall. By ears are still ringing!”  
“Please, both of you, calm down!”

  
_*beep beep whistle beep*_

  
“Language, Artoo.” Luke scolded.

“Umm, excuse me!”

Hux made their presence known as he stood behind the 7 foot Wookie. Phasma settled her breathing as well.

  
“Well, if it ain’t Carrot Top. Here to take my wife too? Wasn’t my son enough?”

  
“Han, please!” Leia dragged her husband back by his jacket in fear that the distraught man would hurt this red-headed stranger.

  
“Please, Mr. Solo—we need to leave now! Ben needs our help. I shouldn’t have let him go, but I did. He seemed so sure he could do it, and I convinced myself too, but now I regret letting him leave— “

  
“Leave?” Luke made his way in front of his sister and brother-in-law, “leave where? What’s your name?”

Hux stared into the older man’s eyes, he looked so concerned, but still in control of himself, _‘this has to be Luke Skywalker. I can’t believe I am actually speaking to him.’_

  
“Hux. Percival Hux. I am the ringmaster of the circus Ben was performing in. I am here because Ben is making his way to the Hutt family right now.”

  
All three of them looked taken back, eyes wide and jaws tight, “why?” asked Leia.

  
“I will explain on the way, please we must go! I do not know how much time we have left.”

  
.  
.  
.

  
Ben stood in a large and brightly lit foyer.

The carpet was a red mahogany. A chandelier was strewn on the ceiling; tiny lights were strung in loops around the crystals of the chandelier. The foyer was furnished with several chairs, paintings and nothing else. In front of him was a hallway. The carpet was plush under his boots and made no sounds as he walked. It ushered him to walk forward towards a huge metal door.

Ben pushed his way in. The room was huge, much larger than the foyer. The lighting was grey and metallic. The room was well furnished with black couches and several red throw mats that looked to be just as soft as the carpet in the foyer. This room did not have installed carpet, and instead, cold grey tiles made the floor shine—like a giant mirror.

The glass walls allowed Ben to look outside, and gaze upon the night-life of Coruscanti. The glass was one-way, they had to be considering hotel occupants would not want to be spied on. There was a deep step in pit, it was very big carpeted with red, plus carpet—the only carpet in the room. The couches and a few chairs were settled around the pit like a perverted Colosseum forum. Lastly, ahead of him, a fireplace was crackling with bright fire, the embers dancing like small red ballerinas.

Ben heard a guttural noise behind him.

A Hutt.

“Um, hello. I am here as you requested.” Ben gave a deep bow. Raising back up, he stood awkwardly in fro of the gelatinous monster.

  
The Hutt gurgled in response.

“Oh, I don’t speak—I only know basic,” Ben animatedly waved his hands, as if trying to make the Hutt understand. The green-brown alien slithered past Ben. He stopped once he reached—what looked to be a dumbwaiter—dent in the wall. The alien waved his hand over the boxy looking dent as it slowly raised with a light whooshing sound. A button was found under the metal plate. The Hutt pushed the button and let out a gurgling belly laugh.

Ben was confused.

  
A deep, prickling sensation burned in his gut—he was more frightened now. What was happening?  
Three doors opened on either side of him, as well as behind him. Two more Hutts, a green Twi'lek  
male, a tall greyish humanoid who looked to be an Anomid, and two well-muscled males who most likely were Corellian, based on their human features, clothing and build.

They encircled Ben, forcing him down the shallow steps that led into to carpeted pit. The room was plunged into darkness suddenly, Ben reached out into the darkness with the Force in panic. None of the occupants have moved to his relief, but a blue light hummed brightly in front of Ben. There was a com on the floor. And the holo that appeared before him was a decrepit elderly man in thick, heavy robes. He sat in a large chair, leaning back into it—his chin was balanced on his right knuckles.  
He eerily smiled, as if his skin would crack—his skin was wrinkled and grey. Ben wanted to run.

“Kylo…I must thank you for coming this evening.”

  
“Who—who are you?”

  
“Why, I am Snoke. I am the benefactor for your precious circus. You should feel honored.”

_‘Snoke himself? Why would he appear this way? To watch, to make sure I do not run—or to see if I even showed up at all?’_

  
Whether Ben knew it or not, but he allowed fear to trickle out even more through the crack of his wall.

“Well, I am here. You can go now. And you better make sure the Hutts erase the debts over Hux and the circus.”

  
“Oh Kylo, Kylo—who still haven’t realized. Don’t worry, Percival will be released of his debts. You only need to do your job tonight.”

  
“What exactly do you expect me to do? Not that I don’t have an inkling already…"

  
“Oh Kylo, you really don’t…”

Snoke snapped his fingers.

  
Ben felt three pairs of hands on him, shoving his face into the carpet. It was hard to breathe, and it took all his might not to summon a force push to get these men off of him.

“These men can do to you as they see fit. As long as you leave with the Hutts that is.”

  
“WHAT?!” Ben wriggled harder. Another body dropped on him. The Anomid male forced all his weight on Ben’s back as the Corellian men held down his arms and legs, the Twi’lek male pushed his foot on Ben’s neck, “Errgh…why? Why—would I leave—with the Hutts?”

“Because, the price they are willing to pay me for the enslavement of Ben Organa-Solo was just too good to pass up,” Snoke smirked. The blue holo flickered.

“…what?”

  
“The son of Han Solo AND Leia Organa. When I found that out, I knew I had to take advantage of this stroke of good luck. The Circus was losing me too much money, but with one wave of my hand, I can make back all my money ten-fold. All I would have to do is turn you over, tell poor Percival that you chose to leave Coruscant—too ashamed to face your friends again, knowing what you done—of course I will give Percival a small cut to placate his bemoaning. It’s all quite simple.”

 

“And let me guess!” Ben was able to shake off one of the males enough to raise his head to face the holo of Snoke, “The Hutts want me because of what my parents have down to Jabba?! That was YEARS ago!”

  
“Well yes, that is partly why they are paying so much for you. But also, that performance you put on tonight, from what I have been told—you made such a good impression. They just had to have you. Now, be a good boy Ben.”

 

Ben felt the ripping of his clothes. A pair of hands attempted to reach for his trousers, to drag them down his legs. Ben panicked and kicked the Twi’lik in the gut. He fell back, his head knocking on the floor. Ben force pushed the Anomid male back to the opposing wall near the fire place. Ben was able to finally push himself up from the floor. He scrambled to his knees to leave the carpeted pit. Soo a sharp pain blackened the edges of his vision. Someone had struck him across the skull. Ben was still conscious, but was struggling to steady his vision.

 

Snoke raised his hand to halt another strike to Ben’s head.

“Don’t make this difficult, Ben. Brendol fought too. Of course, the Hutts did not want his body.”

  
“Brendol—You—you—Brendol?”

  
“Did you know that the slave trade is still very much alive, Ben?”

Ben said nothing.

 

“Humans are versatile creatures. Especially with the right training. The Hutts had their eyes on a certain red-headed boy. A boy that would make me a lot of money. But that boy’s Father found out my plan and because of his foolishness—he was killed. Percival would have padded my bottom line. At 16 years old, he was quite beautiful. He flew through the air on the trapeze, so smoothly and wondrously—just like how you are now. After the altercation, unfortunately, The Hutts lost interest in Percival because Percival gave up his spark. He was no longer beautiful to them, because he would not fight, he would not perform. After Brendol died I still needed someone to run my circus anyway. Sounds a bit cruel, yes, but at the time it was necessary. But now, I have you.”

 

Ben huffed roughly, still feeling tired.

 

“You have that spark. And watching you on the stage cemented the Hutts’ interests in you. So I must thank you, Ben. Enjoy your life as the Hutts deem fit…”

 

A loud crash was heard though the metal door. A blue saber can be seen slicing through the metal. Cries for Ben grew louder. Snoke grimaced and ended the holocall.

Before Ben passed out into darkness, he swore he saw Hux rush to him as the weight from his back lifted.  
His Uncle’s saber whirred through the air.  
His Mother’s phaser took aim.  
His Father’s fists met the faces of the Corellian men.

Hux’s hands felt so warm…

  
.  
.  
.

  
Ben awoke in his bed at the Circus.

He sat up slowly.

He was not sore or aching.

“Uncle Luke must’ve healed me.” Speaking to no one in particular.

  
“He did.”

  
Ben jumped nearly ten feet in the air at the sudden voice. It was his Mother. She was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. She stood, walking towards her son to kiss his forehead. Ben felt very awkward, but also very relieved.

  
“How do you feel?”

  
“Umm, great actually. Look, Mom I….”

  
Leia held up a hand.

“It’s alright Ben. Or should I call you Kylo?”

  
Ben’s face heated up at that. His Mother laughed a bit and patted her hand on Ben’s head, “I’m just glad you are okay, honey. We can speak more about everything later.”

  
“Mom, where’s Percival?” Leia looked to the door and smiled.

  
“Well, if my feelings are right, he is outside the door waiting for me to open it. He has been waiting for you to wake up since Luke healed you. Your Father has forbidden him from seeing you until you were awake.”

  
“Why?” Ben sat up further, pushing the blankets from his body. He needed to eat something. He was starving.

  
“Something about hanky-panky while you were asleep.”

  
“MOTHER!” Ben wanted to melt into the floor. Did she know about his feelings for Hux? She had too. She was his Mother—a force sensitive Mother.

  
“You love him.”

It wasn’t a question or an assumption, but a bland statement. Leia was smiling and she tucked a black tendril of hair behind her son’s ear, “I can tell. You should’ve seen the way he came to us, begging to help him save you from the Hutts. And the way he cradled you when we did find you. I just knew. He was so gentle with you.”

  
“Mother, please, you can stop.”

  
“I’m your Mom, I am supposed to embarrass you. Besides, he is very handsome. I approve.”

  
“Mom, you’re killing me here. Please, just let him in.”

 

Leia put her hands on her hips playfully and looked up at her very tall son, “Alright. But keep your hands to yourselves.”

Ben rolled his eyes and clenched his teeth in embarrassment. Leia allowed Hux into the room. Hux looked to be freshly showered, but the bags under his eyes indicated he did not sleep the night before. Leia smiled up at Hux and lightly grasped his arm, “Take care of him, Percy.”

“Ma’am, yes, Ma’am.” With a chuckle, Leia left the room. Ben’s face was red as he looked at Hux.

  
“Hux…”

  
The ringmaster strode to Ben to bring him into his arms. Hux did not care that Ben could most likely feel his heart pounding through his chest. Hux smelled Ben’s hair and let out a breath he did not know he was holding.

  
“You scared the Hell out of me, Ben! I shouldn’t have let you go.”

  
“I know. I was scared too. And I have so much to tell you—“

  
“Later, Ben. Later.”

 

There was a comfortable silence between the two. They stood in the room, holding each other. Ben allowed a single choked sob from his chest. The relief he felt currently was overwhelming and Hux’s body was warm.

“Percival Hux, kiss me?”

A small quirk of a smile spread across Hux's face.

  
“Gladly.”

 

Hux brought his lips to Ben’s for the first time since that night on the trapeze. Ben’s mouth was hot, and his lips are soft and plump. The kiss was sweet and close-mouthed. Then another kiss happened, and another.

Their tongues touched, and their mouth became slippery and hungry. Hux’s fingers threaded into Ben’s thick, dark hair in an attempt to bring him closer. Ben’s arms made their way around Hux’s neck. They snaked tightly in response to Hux’s excited mouth and his hungry hands.

They broke apart to breathe.

  
Ben snuggled into Hux’s warmth once more and sighed in contentment.

  
“So, join me on the trapeze next show?” Ben looked into Hux’s clear eyes, smiling.

  
“I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”  
.  
.  
.

 

**Bonus Chapter**

1 month after~

  
Leia still could not believe how beautiful her son looked on the trapeze. His raven hair was speckled with golden dust that clung to each strand and shimmered under the hot lights of the stage. Her son wore a black tight costume with knee high boots. It was long sleeved with the shoulders cut out to display his defined muscles that were refined from his many performances. Ben leapt from platform to swing; throwing in somersaults and spins and twists. And while his physical feats were amazing in itself—what she could not take her eyes off from—was her son’s smile. Not since he was a child did she see such a huge grin on his face. Probably not since Ben was able to properly wield and levitate his saber—has Ben looked so happy. Then Ben was sent away to live with Luke to complete his training on Tattooine. She herself could not leave D’Qar for long periods of time so with a heavy heart she kissed her son’s forehead and sent him to live with Luke. She saw the sadness and hollowness in Ben’s eyes, but perhaps Luke could bring back their shine (she thought)—but now she realized how wrong she was.

When Ben was 8, she and her husband, Han brought Ben to this very circus. She remembers Ben gazing up into the sky—laughing bewilderedly—his hands held by hers and Han’s. Now Ben was the star that everyone looks up at, smiling and happy.

 

Now Hux has joined Ben. The two men flew through the air, and danced as one. Hux lifted Ben—still performing under the name Kylo—so the raven haired man could reach a far up bar. The crowd roared in her ears as Hux caught Ben who had just leapt down from the bar with a twist. Hux held onto Ben’s waist as they raised their hands in the air, taking in the cheers.

 

Ben’s hair glimmered and shined under the lights and Leia could not stop the tear that fled down her cheek.

  
.  
.  
.

  
3 and a half months after~

  
No early morning light was penetrating into the darkened room. Ringmaster Percival Hux was staring up onto his ceiling, his arms crossed behind this neck. He was bare-chested, with only a thin pair of sleeping shorts covering his nakedness. The covers were tossed almost to the floor, hanging off the edge of his bed. It was very warm now, especially the nights which made it difficult to sleep. Hux made a note to call a repair droid to fix the air that should be circulating the newly renovated building. He already knew he would be getting an ear full from his performers later on in the day about it. It was that time of year that the days are longer and much warmer—it was also the time of year that the crowds would be growing larger with tourists. But these thoughts were not Hux’s main concern. His main concern was Ben.

  
It has been nearly three and a half months since Hux himself, Phasma and Ben’s family—Leia Organa, Han Solo and Luke Skywalker—had saved Ben from being abused from Snoke’s nefarious group. Even now they do not know where Snoke had hidden himself. All means of contact have been severed. But Hux will never truly rest until he can kill Snoke with his bare hands.

Many thanks to Leia's affluence as well as the growing ticket sales, Hux was able to gain back the deed to the circus as well as pay off any debt that once chained him to Snoke. 

With Ben's suggestion, Snokes Circus has been renamed as Brendol's Circus in honour of Hux's Father. Percival nearly cried again when the newly painted sign was being held up above the entrance to the tent.

 

**Brendol's Circus**

 

As for _Snoke_ —just the mental mention of his former benefactor’s name made Hux nauseous. Hux still blames himself for letting Ben getting involved as much as he did. He should not have allowed Ben to go to the Hutt’s alone that night. Should not have allowed Ben to crawl into that air taxi—Ben’s eyes nearly begging Hux to drag him back to the circus. But Hux’s fear of losing his circus—his Father’s circus to the momentous debt that accumulated during his depressed stupor. The death of his Father, the murder of Brendol Hux had sent him spiraling. And the circus suffered for it.

Ben had told Hux all about what Snoke told him that night.

 

That his Father was killed by Snoke’s order. The same Snoke that his Father had worked under loyally, the same Snoke that Hux himself had worked under—had feared since he was very small—had murdered his Father. A murder that was committed because Brendol refused to give up his young son to the Hutt family. He was murdered to protect Percival. Hux shook and wept in Ben’s arms when they were alone in Hux’s quarters. Ben stroked his hand on the ringmaster’s back as we allowed himself to break apart from the truth his was now learning about his Father’s death.  
Hux had also showed Ben the old holo commercial that he and his Father made when he was a small boy. He told Ben stories of his Father—how the circus was bright and beautiful. And when Brendol died, the lights dimmed and fizzled out—and Hux stopped performing. Ben smiled at the cherubic face of little Percival in the holo and continued to hold Hux—his own eyes beginning to fill with tears.

He smiled and kissed Hux.

Now as Hux stared at his ceiling, Hux’s throat tightened as a lump began to form. Shaking his head as he rose to his feet, Hux decided that it was time to get ready for the day. Thrusting the palms of his hands to his eyes, stopping the rebellious tears, Hux’s body shuddered lightly. He took a deep breath and made his way to the shower. He was reminded of Ben’s tears. The tears he shed for Hux as he listened to the happy stories of Brendol. Combing his hair now--he didn’t catch himself smiling as he thought of Ben.

  
.  
.  
.

  
4 months after~

  
“So what are the chances I could see your lightsaber?”  
“My goodness, Percival—how bold of you.”  
Hux’s rolled his eyes.  
“Your actual lightsaber. You’ve told me about your training, but I have never seen a lightsaber in person. I’ve heard all the stories of the Old Republic, Order 66 and how your family brought balance to this force thing.”  
“The force is actually a thing, yes. And why do you want to see my lightsaber anyway?”  
“Like I said, I grew up with all these stories of the Jedi order. You come from a very interesting lineage. So please indulge my queries, Ben.”

Ben smirked and sighed, “Alright.” Ben made his way to the mid-sized closet in his quarters and opened it. Inside was the same bag he brought with him when he left Tattooine. Opening the bag, Hux can hear Ben shifting some items within the bag, then Ben finally stood. In his hand, Hux can see a large metal looking tube. Ben held it with reverence and respect. Even though Ben gave up his Jedi path, he still appreciated all that his Uncle had taught him and his saber was still an extension of himself.

“Well, this is my saber. I built it myself when Uncle thought I was ready.”

  
Hux’s gaze remained transfixed on the long metal object in Ben’s hands. He wanted to stand closer but something held him back. He raised a hand. He poked it. Ben made a quick jerking motion, frightening Hux to jump backwards nearly three feet. Ben laughed uncontrollably at Hux, the expression that was on the redhead’s face was perfection.

  
“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it!” Ben said through his laughter.

  
“I thought it was going to attack me!”

  
“Stand back, babe.”

  
Hux raised a brow at the cutesy nickname, but took another large step back. Ben took a defensive stance, holding the hilt of the saber tightly in his grip. No sooner did Hux blink—a bright blue light engulfed the room. The saber ignited with a strange pitched noise from the hilt and made a whirring sound when Ben would move it from his left to his right.  
“Impressed?” Ben smiled from behind the blue light.

  
Percival Hux—once again was dumb-struck by the amazing person before him. Hux said nothing, but remained transfixed by the saber’s powerful and beautiful light.

_‘The lightsaber must take after its owner,’_ Hux thought.  
.  
.  
.  
4 months and 1 week after~

  
Ben’s parents have been gone for a while now. With Leia and Han finally reconciling over the course of two months, they took up much of Ben’s time when he was not performing.

 

This left Ben and Hux to spend more time together alone instead of spending that time with Leia in the shops or on The Falcon with Han and Chewie or Ben taking up meditating again with his Uncle before and after performances. Hux was in deed happy that Ben could leave his family on a good note, but he could not help to feel relieved that they are gone. Whether anybody else noticed or not—Han Solo would purposely sit in between the two young lovers at meals, clap a heavy hand on Hux’s shoulders whenever Hux would try to lean in for a kiss or tear Ben’s attention away from him by inviting Ben onto the Falcon for a game of dejarik. While Hux could not bring himself to hate Han Solo for these actions, he understood that Ben was younger then himself and Solo was his Father—he did not miss the burning sensation from Han’s glare whenever Hux got too close to Ben.

Hell, on the last day of Leia, Luke and Han’s stay—Han pulled Hux aside before making his way to the Falcon.

  
_“You take care of him.”_

  
_“You know I will, Sir.” Hux straightened his back and stood unblinking into Han’s eyes, “You can count on me.”_

  
_“But don’t think I won’t be keeping tabs on you, Mr. Percival Hux. He’s the only kid I got. Make. Him. Happy.” Han punctuated word with a jab of his pointer finger into Hux’s chest._

  
_“I agree whole heartedly, Mr. Solo.”_

  
_Han quirked his head to the side and gave a lopsided grin, “Ya’ can call me, Han, kid. Well, time to get back to the Misses.”_

  
_Turning on his heel, Han made his way to Leia and Luke—both standing on the blast door gang plank. Ben gave Leia and his Uncle a tight hug, Chewie as well—but Chewie thought it better to roar sadly as he lifted Ben into air with a final squeeze._

.  
.  
.

Hux’s stride quickened as headed towards Ben’s room. Performances were over for the night, and Ben should have eaten already with Phasma and Dopheld. Hux’s ears pinked as he knocked on Ben’s door.

_‘Come to my room tonight.’_

 

The memory of Ben’s whispered words echoed in his ears. He watched Ben’s door open to reveal Ben freshly showered and perfumed. He wore a simple black tank top that displayed his toned arms and a pair of loose grey sweat pants with no shoes. His hair was still wet from the shower and smelled clean like linen. Ben bit his lip and pulled Hux into his room by the straps of Hux’s suspenders. The door slammed shut and was quickly locked.

“Ben—”

  
But the young trapeze performer had no intention of talking too much tonight. Ben embraced Hux and pulled Hux’s mouth to his own. Ben’s hand cupped the back of Hux’s neck, his thumb tenderly massaged the pulse point found there. The ringmaster was overtaken by Ben’s scent and hot skin as he returned the kiss. His mouth molded with his younger lover’s. Not knowing what to do with his hands—Hux lost his fingers into Ben’s damp black locks. His hair was thick and smooth as Hux threaded his fingers through it. Ben’s other hand skirted up and down Hux’s chest searching for the leverage to get his lover’s clothes off. Finally, they broke apart, breathing heavily as they did so. Hux brought his forehead to rest on Ben’s. He cradled the younger man’s face into his hands. He silently praised himself for not wearing gloves tonight—feeling Ben’s skin sent tingles all across his own as he held his raven haired boyfriend. Hux’s thumbs softly glided across Ben’s puffy lips. Ben’s eyes where glossed with lust but also passion towards Hux. Ben’s lips were ridiculously soft on the pads of Hux’s thumb. Hux tilted Ben’s face to gain access to Ben’s neck and collarbone—peppering small kisses and a single bite to his skin. With a final kiss to Ben’s lips—Hux forced Ben’s gaze to meet his own.

Ben smiled.

  
Hux’s mouth opened slightly, still looking deeply into Ben’s dark eyes, past the thick lashes that fluttered happily. Ben kissed the thumb closest to his mouth. The younger man brought his own hands to lightly grasp Hux’s wrist, he began to slowly lean in for a kiss….

“I love you.”

Ben allowed a breathy gasp escape his chest. Hux brought him closer still, “Ben—I love you so much.”

  
“I know. I love you too, Percival.”

“I typically hate my name but you—when you say it—it makes me insanely happy.”

  
“Good. Because I intend to say your name a lot more tonight.”

  
“By the Gods, Ben…”

Ben was larger than Hux. Their heights are relatively similar, but Ben was all muscle. These facts did not stop Percival Hux from lifting Ben into his arms to carry him to Ben’s bed while still ravishing the younger man with wet and needy kisses. Now on his back, Ben closed his eyes and bit his lower lip again. He can feel Percival pawing Ben’s body through his clothes. Percival untucked Ben’s white tank top from his grey sweat pants and tossed it across the room. Percival suctioned his mouth to Ben’s chest—biting and nipping any skin that came in contact with his mouth. Red marks were left behind in its wake. Percival’s large hands glided up the sides of Ben’s hips and ribcage as his mouth lowered to the drawstring of Ben’s pants.

  
“P-Percival..”

  
“Shhh, love. I’m going to take care of you.” The ringmaster leaned up to unhook his suspenders to then take off his own dress shirt. His shirt found its way to the floor as well. The normally well put together red-haired man was disheveled and panting like a hungry animal. Ben was twitching underneath this animal, his own breathing becoming ragged and high pitched. Percival brought himself back to Ben’s body. His mouth nipped at Ben’s jutting hipbones, leaving love bites similar to the ones on Ben’s chest.

 

Percival hooked his fingers on the band of Ben’s sweatpants to bring it down Ben’s legs and then pulled it completely off. Ben heard Percival laugh deep in his throat but had barely any time to register it when his ginger haired lover buried his face into Ben’s nether regions. Percival suckled over the cloth of Ben’s underwear, bringing his lover cock to life. The sensation of Percival’s hot breath and the wetness growing across his clothing—mixed together made Ben twitch again pleasurably but also he felt denied of his lover’s mouth.

“D-damnit, Hux…”  
“Heh, what happened to Percival?”  
“Sh-shut up.” Ben thrusted an arm across his eyes as he bucked his hips towards where Percival’s mouth was. The ringmaster thumbed the tip of Ben’s cock through the wet spot on Ben’s grey clothing. Ben whined.  
“Say my name, Ben. Say it, Love. I need to hear it.”  
“Peh—P-Percival!”  
“What do you want, Ben?” Percival continued to tease the hardened cock through the wet material, not noticing his own hips beginning to buck in time with his hand.  
“Su—suck me off! I need you to suck me off!”

Quick as lightening, the Ben’s ringmaster discarded the wet cloth from Ben’s body and took the thick appendage into his hot mouth. The heat from his lover’s mouth made Ben feel like he was melting off his bed covers, a pleasurable tightening in his stomach told Ben that his lover’s licks and sucks were targeting the right areas to make Ben come. Percival swirled the underside of his tongue over the top of purple head, then flicked lightly over the slit of his lover’s cock. Slowly Percival then relaxed his throat and steadied his breathing as he lowered his mouth down lower Ben’s shaft. Inching closer to the hilt of Ben’s cock, Percival’s own appendage was hard and leaking for Ben’s touch. But right now, Ben was the main concern. Finally, Ben was completely engulfed in Percival’s wet-hot mouth. Ben was slick and hard, and Percival added a light suction as he rose to the head once more only to slide back down. The hollowing of his cheeks made an obscene but erotic sound. It was a wet and throbbing sound that sent a flicker of pleasure that only punctuated the sensations Ben was already experiencing. Being young and thoroughly turned on, Ben can feel the beginnings of his orgasm as his stomach clenched and his balls twitched. Percival must be perceptive because he slowed his ministrations on Ben’s cock.

 

Ben mewled as he was denied his orgasm but snapped his eyes open again as he felt another sensation by his ass. Using the slickness of his own mouth and the precum from Ben—Percival’s right hand slowly circled the outer rim of Ben’s ass, trying to gain entry. The older man was not going to force his way in—he wants Ben’s permission. He massaged Ben between his cheeks, he can feel his lover twitching and shifting on the bedsheets. A thin sheen of sweat covered them both.

Ben looked down to Percival.

The red-haired man’s eyes are large and clouded as he continued to suck on Ben’s cock. The bobbing of his head, the licking of his tongue and the suction from his throat did not tear his eyes away from Ben’s. The black haired man shot his hand to Percival’s messy hair, gripping the hair somewhat tightly.

 

“Guh, ah, Percival. Do it. Fuck, just do it.” Ben’s hand remained in Percival’s hair, threading his fingers through the redness. Ben could’ve sworn he could feel his lover’s mouth quirk into a smile on his dick once he was given permission to penetrate Ben with his probing fingers. For a short period of time, Percival’s mouth left Ben’s cock to sit up to help Ben get into a more accessible position. Grabbing on of the three pillows on Ben’s bed, he lifted Ben’s ass to slide the pillow underneath him. He then bent Ben’s legs to lie his feet flat on the bed. Once Percival found this suitable, hooked one leg over his shoulder to have a better position over Ben’s still hard dick. He gave it a long and lustrous lick—from hilt to tip.

It twitched.

The ringmaster’s hand stroked slowly up to Ben’s thigh towards Ben’s ass. His thumb, wet with his own spittle and Ben’s wetness—encircled his lover’s inner muscle.

“Relax, Ben.”

  
Ben nodded and gave an exhausted smile.

The copper haired man slowly pushed his thumb into Ben—breaching him for the first time. He continued his slow circling motion as he moved deeper. Ben gave a groan, but not of pain, but of satisfaction. His high pitched keening was adorable and erotic and beautiful all at once to Percival. He gave another lick to Ben’s cock and took him into his mouth again at a slower pace, trying to keep his hand and mouth in tune of one another—as his head bobbed down, his finger would retreat and as his finger returned inside his lover his mouth would travel up to suckle on the head.

Once Ben was comfortable with one finger, Percival added another-but continued with his choreographed ministrations. His thumb was replaced with his three longest fingers. They scissored and bent at the knuckle inside Ben. The assault on his cock sped up in pace as well. His cock was wet and hard and his prostate was assaulted in time of one another. Ben’s chest heaved as his breath quickened. He gave a pitchy whine and his face into his arm once more.

“PERCIV—!”

Ben’s body gave a heave as he came into his lover’s mouth—some cum dribbling out of Percival’s mouth and down his cock. The older man continued his assault on Ben’s innards until Ben had to push him away in exhaustion.

“Ah, damn, Perc—I never felt that before…”

  
The older man kissed his younger lover’s neck as he stroked himself. He was already so hard pleasuring Ben to completion that he hardly needed any more preparation, “and to think we aren’t even gotten to the best part yet, love.”

  
“You gotta give me a minute here, babe.”

  
“You’re young still, but I will grant you a short reprieve.”

The Ringmaster brought Ben into a needy, open-mouthed kiss. Ben’s hand drifted down Hux’s chest and stomach, feeling the soft hair there until her reached his lover’s hard manhood. He was definitely hard and precum was leaking from the tip too. The head was a dark pink, and the curling hair was reddish with a muddy brown tint. Ben slowly stroked Percival up and down slowly but forcefully. He can feel the throbbing pulse point that ran underneath his lover’s cock with his thumb as he bobbed his hand from tip to hilt. Ben’s other hand was back on Hux’s chest, pushing him downwards.

“Ben?”

  
The raven sky dancer looked into his lover’s eyes, pushing his hair out of the way as he did. Ben gave a slight pout. He was still stroking Percival’s cock. The older man had to grit his teeth to not moan out loud. Ben’s hands were firm and calloused from his performance, but soft and freshly lotion from his shower.

“I. Want. To. Ride. You.”

 

Ben licked up Percival’s neck, his leg already swinging over the straddle Percival’s hips. Ben let go of his lover’s cock, his ass jutting out to tease the waiting cock barely centimeters from his freshly violated hole.

“Are you sure? Do you have anything? Lubrication? I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t think my fingers were enough.”

Ben kissed Percival once before carefully leaning across the older man’s chest to reach up behind him. On the shelf above the bed, was a medium sized tube that was obviously a personal lubricant. Ben turned pink as he handed it to his ringmaster, “I picked it up when I went into the city this morning.”

“Always prepared aren’t you?”

  
“After being around you all these months? Of course.”

Ben leaned back again on his boyfriend’s thighs, reaching behind his back he gripped Percival’s dick once more the stroke it, not wanting it to soften. Hux sucked in a breath as he uncapped the tube, “Believe me darling, I am not going to go soft until after I have my way with you.”

_‘Fuck, I love this man.’_

Ben smiles because Hux has no control over his ability to speak to Ben through the force yet. All the time little thoughts escape the redhead’s mind. But Ben does not tease him for it since he was not trained as he was. It still amazes that Ben that Percival has the ability to begin with, but Luke always said that the Force as well as love—have uncanny way of surprising us.

Percival massaged Ben’s entrance with the cool lubricant, mimicking how he opened him before. The lubricant felt good on his hot skin, but he wanted his lover’s cock so badly. Once Percival felt that Ben was prepared enough, he helped Ben position his ass over his throbbing cock. Percival’s hands were on Ben’s hips as he breached his lover once more.

“Ah, ah, ooh—it’s okay, I’m okay, I want all of it, Percival.”

  
Once Ben had his Ringmaster fully sheathed, he gave a small rocking motion to test how it felt. After a minute or so, Ben used his knees to rise up from Hux’s cock—teasing the head, then to slide back down again. Ben repeated this motion at a faster and fast pace. Percival also bent his knees and dug the heels of his feet into the bed for better leverage. Ben was bouncing freely on his lover’s cock, the squeak of the bed urging him on to rock harder. He leaned back again, his hands finding salvation on Hux’s thighs to push himself up and down. Percival met his boyfriends thrust with his own, while making sure Ben didn’t bounce off his cock from the sheer force he was putting into his rocking. One of his hands found its way to Ben’s nipples and pinched them. Ben gave mewls of pleasure at this too.

 

Both men can feel their stomachs tightening and Ben’s ass was clenching onto Percival so tightly, that he knew that he was ready to come. Ben curled in on himself as he rode out his orgasm, Percival bringing his face to his own to kiss his swollen mouth. No sooner had he done that, Hux brought the hand that was teasing Ben’s chest to the small of Ben’s back, pushing his lover downwards to force more pressure onto his cock that was now jetting streams of cum into Ben Organa-Solo.

“Gah! l-love you!” Ben let out.

  
Percival returned with, “Ah, I love you too!”

Soon both men steadied their movements. They were both breathing loudly. Ben removed himself from Percival’s deflating cock slowly, bringing the ringmaster into lazy kisses as his back met the bed once more. Percival met his lover’s mouth just as lazily. Exhausted and sleepy, he brought Ben into his arms to a cuddle. Ben was nearly half asleep when Percival drew up the thin bedspread over their sated bodies.

 

Percival gave one last kiss into Ben’s hair as he too drifted into slumber.  
.  
.  
.

**Author's Note:**

> **I hope you all enjoyed this fic. I would like to write a sequel in time once school has calmed down. l would like to thank the mods of the KyluxBigBang for hosting the KBB and getting all these wonderful authors and artists together. Kylux trash forever!**
> 
> -MetalandMagic


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